Ten Minute Missive

I’ve been thinking about the capriciousness of life lately. Of my three children, one has Mister Soandso’s brown eyes; the other two have versions of my own hazel. They played no role in determining their own eye color, and yet it is part of what makes them who they are. Each of us is made of similar lists: hair, skin, and eye color; the shape of our features; the length of our bones; the effectiveness of our body’s organs and systems. Each of those check marks that come together to make us, were simply handed to us via chromosomes and genetics. However, they become who we are because they are what people see when they look at us.

We are to some extent only what people see. And we are also what people believe us to be, even if it is a lie.

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