On the Outside Looking In

Have you ever felt like you’re on the outside looking in?

Alienation is something we've all had to deal with at one point or another.  We’ve all felt the sharp sting of of exclusion.  Of wanting to belong.  Of wanting to fit in.  Of wanting to be wanted.

Sometimes I feel like we’re all kind of on the outside looking in.  Kind of like we’re all just a big bunch of cool kids standing around in a circle facing each other; each one of us in aviator glasses.  You know, the kinds with the mirrored glass that makes it impossible to see what someone’s eyes look like?  All you get is a reflection of yourself whenever you approach someone wearing those glasses.

I literally wear aviator sunglasses quite often.  They’re my go to.  I’m super comfortable in them as my eyes are sensitive to light.  But I’m not comfortable when someone else is wearing them and I cannot look into their eyes.  I don’t like it when all I see is my own image staring back at me in the reflection.

The irony is that I love being hidden behind my glasses, but I'm not so comfortable when others are.

This image of mirrored aviator glasses is exactly what came to my mind when reading Jodi Picoult's book A Spark of Light.

As always, Jodi Picoult never fails to impress me.  I have read a number of her novels and deeply enjoy how she plays with narrative structure and A Spark of Light is no exception.  Even though the subject matter of this novel is highly contentious,  I admire how she manages to play with perspective, point of view, and chronology, gently urging the reader to come to their own conclusions about the subject matter.  What you are left with is a telling story about women, their personal histories, and their difficult choices.

In case you're curious, the contentious subject of this novel is abortion.

Brilliantly, Picoult sets up her novel so that both the characters and the reader are on the outside looking in.  Like, literally looking in.  They are looking in on an emergency situation of a gunman seeking revenge at an abortion clinic.  And as it stated multiple times in the book, the clinic literally has tinted glass that allows them to look out the windows but doesn't allow anyone to look in.

This is where the image of the aviator glasses comes into play.  Like with the tinted lenses of the glasses, the characters can see out to the world, but others cannot to look into what's going on inside the clinic.

Isn't life so often like that?

Is it true that we are always looking out into the world but we can't always see?  We often will simply see a reflection of ourselves, our filters, and our bias instead.

In this novel it's as if Picoult is not only showing you a reflection of yourself and your values, but she also challenges you to see the characters, their histories and their values even if it makes you uncomfortable.  The discomfort can stem from the aspects of yourself that you can identify with as you are given insight into each character.

If we were to allow ourselves to truly and deeply see and understand others, wouldn't it always be like that? Isn’t it always the case that if we allow ourselves to truly and deeply take the time to get to know one another that we would get the chance to see ourselves reflection in them?   To see the humanity in them?

Perhaps we're not always on the outside looking in.  If we are willing to see and be seen by others, if we remove the mirrored glasses, how much more kind and caring could we be to one another?  How much more impact would we have on others in this world?

Let's move from staying on the outside looking in, to looking in and looking out for each other instead.