I bumped into the Australian ambassador whilst I was living in Buenos Aires. It was the third time our paths had crossed. It seems we shared the came Chiropractor and while I was outside the office looking in my map for directions the Ambassador came out as well.
He stood there for a few moments as he retrieved his mobile phone from his pocket. I said, "Hello." He ignored me - completely.
I said, "Mr. Ambassador!" Again he ignored me and then, through his peripheral vision, realised that I was stood there speaking to him, awaiting a response. His head leveled to zero degrees but his eyes avoided me, and he gently raised a hand and waved it side-to-side, saying, "Uh, no," as if I was asking him for money, or to buy something.
I smirked at his judgement and assumptions. But I also stood there waiting for his enlightenment to come to fruition. He's eyed finally followed the direction of his head and - with the neurons in his occipital lobe working fastidiously - familiarity shook hands with realization. "Ah... it's you," he said, and walked over to shake my hand.
I said,"You thought I was a homeless person, didn't you?"
"No, no," he responded. "I was just lost in thought wondering how I'm going to get home."
We shared no more than 2 minutes of completely empty conversation - namely because although his mouth was moving and he was speaking and asking questions, he was completely disinterested in the answers that followed. He was simply asking the required number of questions to be considered polite and social. He is a diplomat, after all.
Whilst we spoke I looked deep into his eyes for a connection. His eyes, on the other hand, were darting from side-to-side and in all directions except at me. He was simply trying to get past this unpleasant experience and I felt he was just going through what was necessary to get from point A to point B - where point B happens to be far away from me.
And when he calculated that an appropriate number of words had been exchanged in this formulaic interaction, he interrupted thought and false pleasantries with an abrupt, "Well good luck with everything," and extended a hand to finalise the transaction of interaction. And although we were going in the same direction, his path slowed and diverged.
It's my opinion that he made his judgements about me the moment that he sensed my form in his peripheral vision. It's true: I probably don't look like a well-educated or cultured person; my clothes - what little I possess on this journey - are few and old and dirty; I dress casual with sandals; my hair is long and messy, and has been been unbrushed for 12 months; and I am unshaven. It is no doubt that this is a contrast to his well-dressed, well-groomed tastes.
So we return to a familiar topic: judgement. It always amuses me when people judge me for my appearance. They see my vehicle and make assumptions about the soul inside.
But it is only a vehicle.
Now I laugh when this happens. I think it's funny, or at the least humorous.
The physical manifestation of my unique DNA is only something to look at whilst people interact with the spirit within. It is not important.
It is okay when people judge my soul, spirit and mind by my appearance, though I choose not to pass my time with people who rigidly judge my appearance and not the light within.
I was exposed to this a lot through my childhood. The standards of the norm were forced upon me in order to conform to expectation. "What will people think?" I was often rhetorically asked, regarding how I chose to present my vehicle.
It took me a very long time to break from those shackles of programmed thinking to realise: IT DOES NOT MATTER what you look like. NOBODY has the right to judge you. EVERY spirit and soul is beautiful, no matter what clothes, make-up, growths, deformities, sizes or colours they express in their physicality.
If anybody does judge you, do not be mad or angry or frustrated. Simply understand that they have not yet had this realisation yet. But they are still a beautiful soul.
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