The Weight of Looking

We spend our lives looking away. We look at the ground, at our hands, at the clock on the wall. To look directly at another is a risk. It is an admission that we are here, and that we are seen. In the north, the winter light is thin and grey, and it forces us to squint, to narrow our vision until only the essential remains. There is a specific kind of stillness that comes when the talking stops. It is not the silence of an empty room, but the silence of a held breath. What is it that we are waiting for, when we finally stop searching for words? Is it the truth of the other person, or is it the reflection of our own hunger? We carry our burdens in the lines around our eyes, in the way we hold our gaze against the cold. Sometimes, the most honest thing a human being can do is simply to be present, without asking for anything in return.

Jose Juniel Rivera-Negron has captured this quiet endurance in his photograph titled Gratitude and Faith. It reminds me that even in the most crowded world, we are always alone with what we believe. Does this gaze offer you a place to rest?