I’ve always felt a little conflicted about the sentiment that ‘we can’t be what we can’t see.’
Certainly, the intention of the use of this phrase is to highlight the importance of role models – the necessity for pioneers, innovators and change makers – to diversify representation across different fields, whether it be in business, education, lifestyle or entertainment.
I understand the significance for young children to have heroes to look up to, paving a way for them, opening their minds to future possibilities and potential pathways for their life endeavours.
Yet I find that, somewhat ironically, relying on what we can ‘see’ limits possibility and opportunity; in the context of our thoughts, attitudes, perspective and beliefs.
How can we find the courage to attempt something new if we’re always looking to what has already been done?
How can we imagine a life of unique purpose if we’re always looking to the lives of others for inspiration and emulation?
How can we find true meaning and personal fulfilment if we’re always looking to the world for validation and certainty?
At a time where cultural identity is at the forefront of most discourse, I catch myself reflecting on the values instilled in me more often than I used to. What core beliefs about who I am, as the eldest child of Filipino immigrants, born in Australia in the late eighties, have influenced how I think, understand and interact with the world today? Have I been shaped by these beliefs to the point of no evolution or transformation?
Though the shell of perfection has worn down over the years, I am incredibly grateful for my parents. They raised me in love, in faith and with an openness to hear and strive to meet my every need. I grew up with a sense of belief, amidst things unseen.
I was captivated by the amazing stories I read in books, enthralled by the courageous characters I watched in movies, moved by the beautiful voices of singers I listened to – I saw myself in them even though nobody looked like me.
I’m reminded of an old friend whose experiences growing up were incredibly different to mine. She often shared her grievances about not feeling seen or represented in any form of entertainment she engaged with in her childhood. She navigated a youth carrying hurts from an unkind world, feeling cast aside as a minority while straddling two different cultures, neither of which she felt she truly belonged.
I’m sad to know that this is the experience of many – that ‘what we see’ is held in such high regard and a basis for feeling accepted or understood by others.
I will hold steadfast to the truth that our identity is more than what we can see.
I realise now that my core belief in being a child of God enables me to trust in what I cannot see. My identity comes from the Father of Heaven and I am loved, not by the standards of the material world, but by a God who is Love, and present within me.
It is a mysterious and overwhelming idea to ponder, but this is the truth that has given me the strength and purpose to walk through dirt roads, even when I feel the chains clamped around my ankles as I labour every step.
When I cannot see the path I’m treading, or the horizon up ahead; when I cannot see a helping hand or a concrete remedy to mine and the world’s ills; I rely on God who is above me, beside me and within me – in the depths of my heart and my soul, He is there.
So the notion that ‘we can’t be what we can’t see’ is a hopeless one in many ways, keeping us bound by the tangibilities of imperfect people in an imperfect world.
Because we can be and in fact, we are already loved by a perfect God who sees us, even if we cannot see Him. We need only to believe.
Perhaps I shall propose a newly phrased sentiment that, ‘we can’t be, without belief.’
“I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” — C.S. Lewis
