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Why being seen, is not as simple as you may have thought
As a human being, I like the concept of etiquette. I like not getting the door slammed in my face because someone was in too much of a hurry to keep it open. I appreciate not getting shoved out of line, because someone needed their box of Captain Crunch more than me, or seeing my cab leave with someone else in it, while I pick up the sheaf of papers knocked out of my case, by the fullback that just took my ride. I think etiquette provides the grease that allows the wheels of civilization to move with as little friction as possible. It’s a good thing.
But no, that’s not what I want to talk about here. What I think needs a little more attention nowadays, is that feeling that gradually builds up inside us over time and leaves a rather unyielding sense of anger and resentment in its wake; this being the act of not being seen.
The sense that we walk through life, with ten thousand of our closest friends and acquaintances, and amazingly, cease to be noticed when we are practically ablaze as we walk down the corridors of work or into the lives of other people. How is it that humans have become so highly attuned to seeing material things so clearly, like shiny new cars and SUVs, tall buildings and self-propelled skateboards, but frequently fail to see the people that make our…
