Under His Eye

There are certain gazes we have internalized.

A parent's, a teacher's, a friend's, an idol's. Someone who mattered at some point and who has become an invisible, permanent filter on the way we see the world.

Without realizing it, we react for that person.

We unconsciously imagine what they would find admirable, ridiculous, welcome, inappropriate. We pretend to like, to hate, to be amused, to be offended. We act against our instincts to win the approval of someone who isn't there.

We end up wanting to control our thoughts. To justify the sudden impulses that go the wrong way. The ones that wouldn't go down well.

Sometimes, several gazes merge into an indistinct mass that no longer has a name. A many-sided presence that judges, and becomes part of us. That's the danger: when the origin of the gaze disappears and all that's left is a permanent judgment from who knows where. We try to score points in a game with no opponent, one we can't win.

The first remedy is to notice it. To recognize those moments when the superego overrides instinct, when the heart says something the brain opposes by reflex. As if the impulse itself were taboo. Where does this judgment come from? Is there a presence behind it all?

Then, to remember that these gazes are inner constructions that no longer have anything to do with the people who caused them. Judgments we keep up between ourselves and ourselves, with no anchor in reality, and which we can choose to get rid of without asking permission.