Monday, June 19, 2017

The Lady Who Stared

Could it be that some of us find clarity by fixating on others?  I often catch people staring at me.  I've been told I'm a fascinating person.  Yeah-well. I've also been told I have a very strong presence.  Yes-yes! I've been told my aura is blue.  Umkay.. I suppose so.  But just the same, it is very awkward looking up and finding someone wide eyed and staring right at your face.  Most people are not so obvious about it.  You know, they look away immediately when they realize you are aware of them. Is it that they are trying to figure you out?  Do they see something on you? In you? Or around you?  I've even caught my own mother staring at me.  When I asked why, she always says, "You're mine,  I can stare if I want.” 

I am often approached by people who claim to be psychics. Handing me their cards with an invitation to read me for twenty bucks, or I could pay a premium for a life changing read.  Yesterday, a fellow shopper and I made what I thought was casual shoppers eye contact.  But her glance became an  uncomfortable few moments, I thought.. How odd.  I acknowledged her interest and walked away.  Thirty minutes later while standing in line to pay, I notice her again. This time, she turned a complete 180 in my direction.  There were two customers between us, and she was with an  elder woman cloaked in pink crocheted garb, who with her overstuffed purse needed to lean on their shopping cart for support.  The younger one was neatly bundled in all black and knee high boots.  It was nearly 80 degrees outside. Why are they wearing such heavy duty clothes?  And was that a wig or a weave?  A lot hair. Nobody’s curls are that perfect.  She's tall. Wears no makeup.  Sort of ashy. 

The more she stared, the more annoyed I became. What was I to do?  Stand there in front of all these people and be stared at like that?  I was getting emotionally charged and admittedly defensive.  The urge to challenge her about being so rude was rising.  So I took a deep breath and spoke with a smile.. asking simply, "Are you okay?”  

She didn't respond, nor did she break her trance.  I asked again.. "Why are you staring at me?"  She said nothing.  She didn't budge.  She didn't smile, or blink or nod.  Then a disruptive nudge from her companion and a smart, "stop that" -changed things. The spell was broken. They inched up in the line and their backs were to me.  

I knew there was more to her admiration of my royal Jackieness.  Maybe she did see my aura.  Or maybe it was that glowing green eye liner I was wearing.  I don't know, but when two check-out clerks called for.. "Next person in line,”  she and the old woman went in one direction, I waited my turn to go in another.  A huge sigh of relief. Thank ya, Jesus.

Whatever the starer saw in me, she was definitely dedicated to seeing it.  My sense was to care instead of despair.  Her act of seeing was not about me.  I understood her specialness, her gift of a certain kind of sight that only those people (with certain a kind of sight) have.  Or she was like a cat.  Oblivious to the discomfort their interest is causing. I could be flattered or offended.  Or neither, and choose to release my concern that she must think I’m abnormal.  

Anyone can teach you about love. I can make you good at it.

 Originally shared:  January 28, 2015. 12:06PM. Edited/Reposted: June 17, 2017 & March 6, 2021.
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