There’s a quiet art I’ve been practicing lately — the art of watching. Not to judge, not to condemn, but to understand. To see beyond what people say and notice what they actually do. Because if you give someone enough time, their soul starts to show through the cracks.
It’s like building a puzzle. One moment, you hear a phrase that feels… off. Another time, you witness a reaction so out of proportion it leaves a mark. Slowly, piece by piece, the image sharpens.
I once heard a man speak with such cruelty about a woman he barely knew — someone who had never wronged him. And in that moment, a puzzle piece clicked into place. Not because I was looking for it. But because it was right there, speaking loudly in between his words. He didn’t know he was revealing himself. But he did.
Another time, he spoke with pride about pretending to afford a lifestyle he couldn’t sustain — just to impress others. Not knowing that pretending always leaves you in emotional debt long before the financial one hits.
He wore the mask of a man of faith. But when a woman shared her pain after being unknowingly entangled in a relationship with a married man, he didn’t respond with compassion — he wanted her to destroy the marriage. Another piece fell into place.
This is not about one man. This is about all of us.
Because the truth is… our masks slip too.
We can only pretend for so long. Eventually, the stories we tell about others, the way we treat people when no one’s watching, the reactions we give when no one is pandering — they tell on us.
This isn’t about calling people out. It’s about calling ourselves in.
It’s an invitation to observe — not obsessively, but curiously. To notice the quiet details. To pay attention to how people treat money, strangers, time, truth. To see who leans in only when they need something. Who turns sour when you don’t give it. Who hides behind performance and crumbles when the applause stops.
And to be brave enough to ask: What do my own puzzle pieces say about me?
Because we all have our circus moments. We all wear our masks. The magic is in noticing — gently, consistently — when they fall. In ourselves. In others.
As the rain taps on my window and music from simpler times plays in the background, I am reminded:
You don’t need to rush to judgment. Just watch. The truth always reveals itself.
One puzzle piece at a time.
Salima
Just me thinking out loud over here