Seeing The Light

The art of seeing ourselves

A bright morning sun poured through her new picture window. Orange, brown and red foliage dotted a bright green manicured backyard. Kate sat at her newly remodeled kitchen island finishing a grocery list on her phone. She really loved the new cabinets, the black granite countertop, the pendant lighting.

Her son was home. Thanksgiving eve had begun well.

She noticed an unread text and quickly scrolled it. “Aaron, honey…Jesse’s mom invited us over Saturday. Have you called him since you got home? She hollered it toward the reading room and waited for a reply that wasn’t coming when her phone rang, and she immediately recognized the Greenwich area code.

“Ms. Massey…It’s Headmaster Tom Dobbs, from Winfield. Happy Thanksgiving. Is this a good time?”

Kate instantly recalled his email. “Ah, Dr. Dobbs. Yes, Happy Thanksgiving to you as well. It’s Kate, please, and certainly, yes, I’ve been looking forward to your call”, she lied.

“Is Mr. Massey at home now? I usually have this conversation with both parents whenever possible.”

“Well, Michael and I are, uh, no longer together. But he’s coming over tomorrow for Thanksgiving.”

“I understand, Kate. These things are challenging to manage, for everyone.” He paused, then pivoted. “Well, I wanted you to know that, of the forty or so calls like this I make at the end of first freshman term, I saved this one for last. I must say, Aaron’s a very unique young man.”

Kate beamed with pride. “He gets it all from me, you know.” They both laughed.

“He’s uncommonly bright.” The headmaster proceeded to summarize Aaron’s high marks, classroom engagement, the way he helps other students, even his ball skills on the soccer pitch, a sport Aaron had never even played before attending Winfield.  

“Dr. Dobbs, you’ve made my day! I can’t tell you how good this is to hear, and I will definitely share it with Michael tomorrow. Aaron has done nothing but talk about how much he loves it there since he got home yesterday.” Again, she lied.

“Really?”

“Why of course. With the way Aaron’s thriving, Winfield was probably the best decision we’ve ever made.” 

The headmaster paused. “May I ask a personal question? Did your separation from your husband occur recently?”   

It was Kate’s turn to pause. “Ah, no. That happened last year. Why do you ask?”

“Well…It started about a month ago. Aaron became quiet, introverted. His schoolwork remains strong, but he’s become withdrawn.” Kate stood up while taking in this unexpected news. Aaron had definitely been off since arriving home.

Tom Dobbs continued. “Of late, he’s become disengaged from his peers. He’s even opted out of soccer. He’s taken a strange interest in art of late.”

“Was there some kind of fight?  Is he being picked on or harassed by another boy?”

“No, most definitely not.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, his math instructor met with him privately to probe, and Aaron insisted everything was fine. I met with him just before the break at great length. And Kate, I have to say, he seems oddly comfortable with this, what I would characterize as…a nomadic approach to school.”

Kate’s thoughts raced in a tight circle, struggling to process. “Something must have happened down there because my son is quite gregarious. He is definitely not a nomad.”

“He’s very well liked, Kate. No enemies. Even now, his friends…rather than heckle him, they afford him an unexpected measure of respect. They respect his choice. I’m surprised, and even proud of them for that.”

“Dr. Dobbs, should Aaron be seeing a professional? I mean…”

“I have a Masters in education and a PhD in adolescent psychology. I’ve published clinical research on adolescent depression. Aaron is not depressed. He seems strangely Zen. At peace. In my professional opinion, Aaron may be the first person I’ve ever observed who presents as…how might I characterize it? I’d say that Aaron is somehow entirely devoid of ego.”

Kate shuffled quickly back to the kitchen, keeping her voice low. “Aaron has never been egotistical.”

Oh, and another happy surprise, did you know that your son is a very talented artist?”

Kate Massey had moved quietly toward the reading room as Dr. Dobbs spoke, finding the door ajar. Pushing it open, she spied her son sitting on the edge of the brown leather couch, an end table repurposed with a series of sharpened pencils of different sizes in neat rows, an easel of completely unknown origin, and Aaron Massey so deeply engaged in a way she’d never before witnessed.

Dr. Hobbs continued. “Aaron’s been communicative with one teacher in particular. Johan Licht, our artist in residence. The two seem to have formed a bond of sorts.”

“Well, perhaps Mr. Licht can shed a little light on this situation.” Kate was oblivious to her own pun. “Aaron is intellectually creative, yes. My son is a problem solver. He processes things quickly, like his father. Math and science always came naturally to him. And when he believes something, there is no way either of us can debate with that boy because he’s so annoyingly…logical. Frankly Dr. Dobbs, he can be a pain in the ass sometimes when you want to motivate him in a particular way and he’s not in agreement. But he has never, not even once, ever expressed even the most remote interest in art.”

                                                                                ******

“Hey you…whatcha doin’?” Kate casually slipped into the reading room.

“I’m working on something, mom. Don’t look, okay?” Aaron adjusted his project’s orientation slightly further from her angle of sight.

“I thought you were gonna get together with Jesse today? It’s beautiful outside. Why don’t you two go play football or something?”

Aaron had one pencil tucked atop his right ear while meticulously guiding a thicker pencil, eyes fixed tightly on the drawing. “Maybe later. I wanna finish this first. Who were you talking to?”

“I just had the most remarkable conversation. Headmaster Dobbs from Winfield called.”

“He’s pretty smart.” Aaron maintained focus on his sketch.

“Well, he’s very taken with you. You seemed to have made a very favorable impression on everyone there.” Kate waited for a reaction that again wasn’t coming. “Aaron, are you happy at Winfield? I know being away from home is a…”

“I like it there, mom. I do.”

“Dr. Dobbs says you’ve suddenly become very withdrawn. Why is that?”

Aaron stood up to adjust the window curtain as sunlight entered the space. “I don’t see it that way, mom. I’ve just refocused myself.” He traded one pencil for another. “There’s a difference.”

“He says you’ve stopped hanging around your new friends. You’re not talking in class. And you dropped out of…soccer? I didn’t even know you liked soccer.”

Aaron kept on sketching. He used the awkward silence between them to tack differently. “Would you consider your friendships of great value to you?”

Kate looked bewildered. Understanding her son required indulging him. “Yes, very much so.”

“Why?”

“What a silly question.” Kate thought for a moment. “Okay…uh, friends enhance our quality of life. They bring relationship. They enable our joy, and make us laugh. And they support us when we struggle, when we need a hand.” As she got her head around the question, she felt her argument strengthen. “Aaron, we weren’t built to be isolated, honey.”

“Okay, so take Mrs. Beauchamp for example. Would you say you two are kinda like best friends?”

“Well, I don’t know that I have a best friend, honey. But Jesse’s mom is one of a circle of women that I enjoy being with. She’s very social.”

Aaron alternated between staring at the drawing and looking up at his mother. “When you guys are social, would you consider your friend Lynne Beauchamp a good listener?”

Kate’s eyes narrowed as Aaron continued. “Why it is that after every social interaction with Lynne Beauchamp, that you and dad always hold a prolonged debrief, analyzing everything she said and didn’t say, every social misstep, personal slight or overindulgence?”

“Honey that’s just how it goes with friends. We’re human.” Kate knew her son well enough to know it would take a few moves to escape this defensive position. “People can be petty. I’m just as guilty of that as anyone. But…with friends we take the good with the bad. I believe people make a calculation with friends. They measure the value of what’s good, and accept that there will always be a rub in any relationship. If the good outweighs the bad, we stay in relationship with one another. If not, we politely divest.”

Aaron enjoyed watching his mother gather steam.

“Sure, mom. That makes sense. But have you considered why the time you spend with friends is so often unsatisfying?” He seemed to be deconstructing her with his pencil as he spoke. “Could it be that you enter every one of those encounters with a specific set of needs? And when those needs are left partially, or sometimes completely unsatisfied, you feel really crappy? What exactly did Mrs. Beauchamp have to say about Massey Kitchen 2.0?”

Kate felt the sudden weight of introspection. Negative thoughts blocked a thoughtful response.

“Our art teacher made us do an exercise. Everyone thought it was stupid, but I actually did it. For like one whole day, we had to write down our behaviors and then figure out the motivation for everything we say and do. You had to come up with at least fifty behaviors. We kept a journal and had to turn it in.”

“Well that’s a strange thing. For art class?”

“The point of it was to identify and then strip away all the goofy thoughts and feelings that fuck up the way we see things.”

Aaron moved toward his mother, carefully studying her face for a moment, then returned to his easel. “And it all starts with how we see ourselves. And if that is super clear, then it changes how we see everything around us. And that is what enables great art.” 

“Mr. Licht, is it? Seems he’s the one that has cast this spell on you.”

“I suppose right now if I was unfocused, unhappy and not consciously choosing everything I do or don’t do, you might say what Johan showed me was bad.”

“Why are having friends, engaging your teachers and playing sports a bad thing?”

“If you’re doing those things for the right reasons, those are all good things.”

Kate was growing exasperated. “So what are the right or wrong reasons for doing those things, normal things that every well-adjusted human being routinely does?”

“Well, if I really like someone, and they really like me, and we’re both super motivated to help each other be better, then we’re a good match. If I have a thought that’s unique and useful for my teachers and fellow students to hear, then I should speak up. And if I really get off the camaraderie and teamwork that may come with some athletic activity, then I should play sports.”

Kate seemed satisfied. “Okay…so?”

“On the other hand, if my best friends constantly prefer the sound of their own voice to mine, then I might decide to not give them an audience every day. Or if I ask questions or raise points in class just to suck all the oxygen out of the room and hog up my unfair share of teacher praise, then I shouldn’t waste everyone’s time. And if I figure out that I’m pretty good at controlling a soccer ball, and but then suddenly feel the need to constantly show off just to impress people, then I should probably go find another hob...”

“Aaron, you are way overthinking this.” Kate scrolled her recent calls for the Winfield phone number. “I’d like to talk to this…Johan guy, I swear…” She felt her son’s physical presence right on her. 

“Mom.” Aaron took his mother in his arms. “Mom. Look at me. Really look at me.” He used his hands to literally steer her eyes directly into his. “I have never been more happy than I am right now…in this moment. Believe it.”

Kate felt herself getting emotional but couldn’t suppress a smile as she felt her son laughing. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

“I’ve never felt more in control of my thoughts.” He broke their embrace. “Everything seems so clear now. Frankly it’s kind of weirdly addictive.”

Aaron spun the easel around. “What do you think? Mr. Licht’s a pretty good teacher, huh?”

Kate Massey stared in stunned silence. The image of herself maybe twenty years younger, eyes wide and laughing wholeheartedly at something unseen. She vividly remembered being that person once. But she couldn’t recall a photo ever capturing her so authentically. So totally unburdened.

Aaron smiled. “This is how I see you.”