I loved peeking into the various cubicles of lit offices at night, imagining the importance of their jobs and the stress that came with it. I imagined a hard-working individual who stayed way past their punchout, driven to climb that ladder of excellence and become a vital part of whatever that office building was doing for society. Or, when I would see a janitor cleaning the floors and emptying countless small wastebaskets beneath the desks, I imagined them as well. I imagined that the solitude and cathartic motions of their cleaning enabled their imaginations to rewrite a more lucrative profession. Perhaps owning and deserving a seat at one of the desks they were currently cleaning. Perhaps their dreams were sequestered, and they now dreamed for their sons and daughters. Their daily sacrifices were for those they created. So that their offspring might sit at the CEO’s desk, the very same they cleaned at this moment, preserved in my peeking. 

I can’t help but wonder at the wonderful warmth inside a home at Christmastime. It emanates out from within, and all the lights pull my line of sight right to the window! My “peeking into homes” is probably at its all-time high. Ha-ha. It’s just the perfect combination of stark contrast—light against dark. The daylight is at its shortest, and the dark comes for us early. 

All the homes are well-lit with holiday lights and decorated so beautifully. Some people decorate as much outside as they do inside, and it’s beautiful to see all the different holiday aesthetics. I absolutely love it. It’s my favorite time to peer inside. I love seeing families get together and feeling the happiness in most of the homes. In direct opposition, it also interests me to see those who seem to not bother. The house, unaffected by all the warmth of those surrounding it, propels me to contemplate the profound loneliness that accompanies those within its walls. The imagined disparity that may be happening, (perhaps only in my head) honestly, still has me secretly hoping for a hallmark moment to be provided for those people. (That is not to say that you must decorate or participate in a season drenched in joy and gift-giving in order to be happy or otherwise.) It’s just where my mind ventures when I look upon those homes lacking holiday spirit.

It’s food for my imagination, and it feeds something within me that inspires me. In fairness, there have been those in the past with whom I’ve dated who have hated when I did this. I would make a subtle remark like, “Oh, look, those people are having a party in there” or “I love the color they painted on their living room walls!” and the man I was with at the time would ask what was wrong with me. Did I not learn how rude or weird it was to peer into people’s private homes? I needed to mind my own business and stop being a voyeur. I of course understand this notion, but it never stops me from doing it; it just prohibits me from telling you about the things I’m seeing or thinking. Lol. I never truly felt I was committing any crime or being inappropriate. In truth, I suppose there are a plethora of negative or sexual connotations when it comes to the word “voyeur.” However, that being said, I think the word “watcher” may be more in tune with my actions. I don’t know. I suppose that I have been a lifelong watcher since childhood, and some may find it a bit discomforting or inappropriate, but to me, it draws a bigger picture of community. To me, it brings me closer to understanding the beauty of difference. I spy with my eye, — will always be a personal favorite. Haha. I think it allows me to imagine different ways of living and form my own opinions on how I live my own life. In short, know that if you leave your shades open or part your window curtains, if your front door is glass and exposing the rooms inside, if you have left your garage open, or if your house is well-lit against the night approaching, chances are a passerby has peered in.

Just as you are or have been captured in a million strangers’ photographs, the watchers of society have seen you in moments you were and will never be aware of. Just facts. Taking a look inside is something I will always do. The venture to look within is innate and helps me define how other humans are doing this living thing—well, at least it feels innate to me.