Different Skin Daily

The other day I was struck by a thought. I let the thought pull me toward itself without resistance, despite not clearly knowing its full impact.

I waited a moment for better clarity and there it was in the form of a question.

What if tomorrow I woke up with different skin?

It might be a different color or a different texture. It might be old wrinkly skin, or the smooth pinkish skin of a new baby. It might be that of a burn victim, or a leper or a model’s perfect air brushed skin.

It could be I open my eyes and see myself as black or white or brown or red or yellow or some shade in between. What if it was possible to wake up with green or blue or purple skin?

The idea twisted a bit, and the question became, what if I woke up every day with different skin? Would that change my outlook on life?

Would I become more tolerant and open-minded, or would it move me in another direction, one where I played favorites, treating one skin color better than another?

I wondered whether changing my skin every day would be enough time to form any lasting opinions or would I need more time, like a week or a month or maybe a year.

I also wondered whether I would like some skins and dislike others. If I constantly changed, would that provide me with a broader sense of feelings that would create genuine compassion.

If I changed skins daily, would I have any control over the next one to arrive? Would there be ones I would try to avoid?

These questions generated a great deal of contemplation.

Why did this question appear inside of me? Is there a message attached that I need to listen to? If there is, what does the message mean to me?

I asked myself, how many skin types are there? Would this constant changing go on for as long as I lived? If so, could I stand it, adjust to it, learn from it?

In this present moment it feels quite daunting to consider, so I sat back, closed my eyes, and slowed my breathing, hoping to gain some valuable perspective.

An impression appeared.

I sensed that whatever skin covered my body was not the issue. The issue was how I felt about it and what thoughts passed through my mind. Because I’ve already lived a long life, I have absorbed biases through my cultural training. Assuredly, many of these biases are not real and not based on facts. And yet, they exist inside of me.

Based on the idea of ever-changing skin, my focus sharpened, and it set me back on my heels. I immediately realized how easy it was for me to judge each skin and to choose an attitude to go along with each one.

I needed to take a step back…a big step back.

Some part of me searched for a sense of fairness and compassion. I sensed a desire to love each and every skin I wear. I began to look beneath the skin, to where every one of us is the same. A divine being, living an earth life, creating, and experiencing what it means to be human.

This skin experiment has offered me an opportunity to see to a greater depth and deepen my love for all beings, regardless of how they appear.