Looking Deeper

 

 

 

‘Searching for me
You look everywhere
Except beside you
Searching for you
You look everywhere
But not inside you’

 From the song ‘Peace’ by King Crimson

What do we see?

When we look at someone what do we see?

What are we looking for?

What are we looking at?

What are we expecting?

What are we discerning?

A few years ago I reconnected with a group of old schoolfriends whom I had not seen for over 40 years. We now all meet regularly, and I thoroughly enjoy our get togethers.

The first time I met with the group, one of my former friends (one with whom I had been especially friendly back in the day) was asking about me and I mentioned that I had Multiple Sclerosis. He looked somewhat taken aback and blurted out ‘But, David, you look so well!’. That is not an uncommon response, although in this case, my friend being a GP might have led me to expect a somewhat more nuanced reaction!

Other than when I have a relapse (which, thankfully, are rare, and usually mild) few would notice that I have MS. But that’s because people do not see the hidden issues, which are more often experienced,  and which are many and can prove restrictive and place constraints on aspects of normal living.

Even when people know and are aware, they quickly forget or are surprised when I indicate that I am finding things difficult.

That’s all fine, and I am used to that, and used to having to explain things when (for example) I have to call off at the last minute because I am fatigued, or have to dash to the loo because of urgency, or when I have to take a rest, or find a seat etc. But you cannot always explain to strangers on (for example) a crowded bus or train when you remain seated while elderly people or pregnant women are kept standing . (Usually, I do get up and give those in need a seat; most days, I can cope with standing, but on occasion it would not be possible, and that is embarrassing).

You do not usually have the opportunity to explain to those who are looking at you somewhat sceptically and suspiciously, why you are sprinting (surely disabled people can’t do that?) to a disabled toilet…

…or why you have suddenly stopped conversing because brain fog has descended and you can’t find the words…

…or why you have to leave the party very early…

…and so on…

In my family, I am not alone in having ‘hidden’ conditions. The others who have (different and unrelated) challenges in this regard would also ‘look’ fine and appear to be ‘fully functioning’ on first meeting or in a general conversation.

But, as one who sees them close up, and knows them very well, their ‘disabilities’ are very real, and the restrictions on normal living are considerable.

People do not usually see that, and even those who are close to us, I think struggle to fully understand.

That is not surprising, when there are few visible signs.

But it does all make me wish that we could all find a way of ‘looking deeper’ and seeing those things that are not, in fact, entirely invisible, if only we had the eyes to see, the ears to hear, and the will to understand and accept.

Speaking for myself, when those close to me do understand, when friends check out how I am, when people make the effort to try and accommodate my occasional limitations, I find that very supportive and encouraging, and I appreciate it very much.

Looking deeper can be a way of loving better.