Visible
In the first part of Flatland, A. Square provides an explanation of how the beings of this two-dimensional world recognize one another. The primary, and easiest, method is through feeling the other person. By feeling they can determine the number of sides the individual has and whether they be a triangle, pentagon, etc. The second, and more academic, method is through sight. The presence of fog allows the trained eye to see the degree of a perceived angle, and from there a shape can be determined. The elite attend universities and study to excel at this art; and one who can identify individuals purely through sight is considered nobler. In fact, Square states, in the higher classes feeling is forbidden.
It might seem a bit silly, imagining flatly drawn shapes on a piece of paper, moving around and seeing each other this way. But I don’t think it is a stretch to say that we do this in our own world with similar intensity and devotion. We, nearly always, start with what we can see. And from what we see we fill in all sorts of assumptions, conclusions and opinions — typically based on what we have seen in the past. What we like, what we don’t like; what’s safe, what’s unsafe; who’s attractive, who’s unattractive; the mood of those close to us, the mood of a stranger; nearly all of it starts with what our eyes tell us. While there is merit to this it, like the methods used by Flatlanders, is incomplete. How could our eyes tell us everything?
We understand this already. Expressions like “tip of the iceberg” or “don’t judge a book by its cover” suggest we know the inadequacy of seeing. And the familiar sensation of going to a social gathering, being around other people, and leaving feeling invisible is all too common. And yet visibility remains. To say that the physical features of my height, face, hair color, etc. don’t factor in to my interactions with the world would be just as false as saying I am simply what you see. What is visible is in fact the prerequisite to the invisible.
Typically, we journey to ask questions from here. To not judge the book, we open it and read it. Where are you from? What do you do? How are you today? And the interrogation to know is underway. Don’t misread this, getting to know one another is marvelous and essential to relationship. But it is, in some ways, merely expanding the visible. When A. Square encounters Sphere a gush of questions are asked. And they do not get him any closer to understanding Spaceland.
So, alternatively, we can journey instead believing that some insides remain forever interior, some invisibility is inevitable, and to expose buried roots or hidden trunks would destroy the tree in the process. The branches and leaves are all the visibility I need, and surely tell me enough to know that what I see is a tree. And yet I know there is more to the tree than what I can see.
Today I invite you to embrace the visible parts of yourself. Your skin, your smile, your hair (whether it is brushed or tangled or no more). Today I ask you to gaze into the mirror and see the reflection of the face you wear; believing also that you bear a hidden face that you will never see. Today I implore you to carry that vision out the door of your home, and that you start to feel the Invisibility that accompanies you.