Love and looking dorky

I kept checking youtube to see if the video had been posted yet.  As soon as it was up, I was going to post it to Facebook.

The video came out.  I didn't post it to Facebook.  I didn't post it to Facebook because I looked so dorky in the video.

Instead of proudly posting it, I hurried off to get a haircut, in the hopes I could make myself look not quite so bad.

On Facebook, someone posted a photo of a friend I have not seen in years.  I loved the photo, because my friend was in it.  It touched my heart to see him.  Only after a bit did I realize that objectively speaking, my friend looks dorky in the photo.  But that's not what I see when I look at the photo.  I look at the photo, and my heart fills with love.

What do people see when they look at me? Do they see dorky? Do they see love?

What do I see when I look at other people? I have this ingrained belief that I ought to love all people, but I don't.  Usually what I see when I'm out in public, watching people walk by, is ugliness.

As for the people in my life, some I love, some I don't.  Sometimes as part of my spiritual practice, I wish well to each person in my life.  It's interesting to see how for some people I can do it with a pure heart, and for others, I just don't have it in me to love them.  It's interesting to learn through this exercise which ones I love, because it does not necessarily correspond to how close I am to the person, how I treat the person, or how the person behaves.

We all want to be loved.  When I say that I saw myself looking dorky, maybe what I was saying is that I saw myself looking like someone no one would love.  Because in the video, I was wearing that armor of reserve and kutziness that often comes over me when I'm out in public.  I think I've had that armor all my life.  I've always hated it, and I've always felt that because of it, no one will like me.

Some people find me useful because I write and look stuff up and keep track of things.  Useful like a tool is useful, like an inanimate object.  The don't see my spirit, my joy, my silliness, my passion, my pain.  It's my fault they don't see it.  They don't see it because I lack the ability to break through that weight of armor that falls down around me.

The woman next to me in the video exudes freespiritedness and joy.  She is the one everyone loves.  I like her too, and it doesn't hurt me that other people like her. What hurts me is to see how I look next to her.

But maybe as I feel such love for my friend who looks dorky in the photo, maybe, even though I look dorky in the video, maybe that doesn't mean I'm un-loveable.  The one in the photo, I trust that he loves me as I love him.  And there have been others whose vision has pierced through that stupid armor that burdens me, who have seen through it to me.