If you peek through a window long enough, you may see yourself staring back from the other side. We all look in eventually, if only to take a measure of things. When you pare away the all layers, we’re not that different from one another.
I spend a lot of time looking through windows. Is what I see original, a stew made from elements that preceded it, or is it me being served back to me? It’s uncanny how often I’ve listened to, read, or watched the work of others, and thought, “Hey. They’re doing my act.”
Each of us puts out something, and then wonders how it will be received. Windows enable our audience. If we could live without validation, the blinds would be drawn. If we did only for ourselves, we’d need no windows at all. For one day we should close the curtains and decide if what we do is for the sake of it, or for others, and if we can live without the desire to be noticed.
If you look through the glass for too long, can the reality of what’s behind it become blurred, or misunderstood – either for those looking in, or for us if we’re gazing out? Inside my window I see accomplishment, failure, pride, guilt, forgiveness, and no regrets. And outside the same window there’s missed opportunities, disorder, wasted time, arrogance – but no regrets. No matter where I stand, both views make me want to grab some Windex and a paper towel, and check to see if I’m in the right place.
Sooner or later you’ll be seduced by what’s behind the glass. It’s easy to steal a peek; it takes such little effort to create the small stage that has exactly the right script, characters, and scenery to make it a compelling drama worth following. And then one day, you can’t tell real life from fiction.
Sometimes I can’t tell if I’m the man I see behind the window, or if I’m the man looking through it.
But hey, enough about me. Here are the words. Sing along, huh…