Today, I want to share with you a painting that’s been stuck in my head. And maybe it will now be stuck in yours. It’s a Spanish painting by Diego Velazquez called Las Meninas (The Ladies in Waiting), painted during the Baroque period.
But first, the boring but essential history stuff. I’ll be brief: Spain’s Baroque period focused on questions about reality versus illusion, and there was a curiosity with spirituality and mysticism. Phew. You did it. History lesson over.
If you’re feeling brave, let’s turn to the painting.
At first glance, the painting looks like a typical ornate painting from the era with fluffy clothes and accoutrement. However, upon closer inspection, you may notice something unusual about the perspective. In a painting such as this, you would expect the King and Queen to be central figures. But where are they?
If you look beyond the ruffled ladies and turn your attention to the back wall, you see what appears to be a portrait of King Phillip IV and Queen Mariana of Spain. But it’s not a picture hanging on the wall, it’s a mirror.
Then, you may notice the dashing pirate brandishing a paintbrush. That’s the painter, Diego Velazquez. Now the real puzzle begins.
Who is the subject of this painting? Who is looking at who? And what do they see?
I’ll leave it to you and the art historians to answer these questions. The book that brought this painting to my attention claimed the dog is the central subject because the dog is the only one free from the “matrix of vanities” that the other characters are trapped in. I like this answer.
This portrait is on my mind because it’s a compelling example of a psychological reality that we swim in every day, but exists outside our awareness. There are many names for this psychological phenomenon, but the one I like the most because of it’s clarity is our internal working model of others, which is to say, we create pictures of people in our mind.
It’s the you that exists within me. I have an image of you that I carry in my mind based on my perception, which is based on my history, my experiences, my senses, my biases, my personality, my mood, what book I read earlier that day, etc.
But why does it matter? Who cares that we have these portraits of each other decorating the walls of our mind? Well, it matters because our internal images give us data on how we treat each other and how we build our self.
For example, if my image of you is one of a cold and critical person, then I will probably not be vulnerable with you. I may find myself avoiding you or, if' I’m feeling cranky that day, I may even pick a fight with you.
But what if my image is as distorted as a funhouse mirror? What if you are just a cautious and deliberate person?
Our internal images of each other need constant updating. Especially with the people we are closest to. Sometimes we are reacting to an image of our partner that is from the past, and isn’t the image of the present.
Sometimes we paint pictures of others so that we can hang our picture next to them and look a certain way. It’s a compare and contrast. If I paint you as cold and aloof, then I look warm and friendly. If I paint you as soft and permissive, then I look strong and principled. We all have our beloved portraits of ourselves.
The famous writer, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, once remarked, “I’ve been married to my wife so long that I’m not sure who she is anymore.” Don’t fact check me on that legend. It sounds like something he might say, so I’m going with it.
Many of our repetitive fights with each other are because we have inaccurate or incomplete portraits of each other. We get stuck viewing a particular person from one particular angle, which limits our capacity for creative response.
Sometimes, when we update our image of a person, we see flaws that we initially missed, and that update requires us to make protective decisions we wouldn’t have made before. We must update our images for survival.
If our life is to expand, our internal images of each other must mature with us. The writer, Thomas Hubl, says that our internal images must constantly be flowing and updating like an online live stream. Otherwise, we are stuck buffering.
Becoming more aware of our internal gallery wall gives us more options for relationship. When we allow portraits to be updated and viewed from various angles, we increase our capacity to respond with relational creativity from moment to moment.
“It’s enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.” Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Often, our internal gallery wall is clouded by our own painful experiences. But when someone gives us the space to exist in our true form within their heart and mind, then our own painful experiences are digested and we can see our own portrait more clearly. It is a gift to give someone the space to exist within you as they really are.
The spiritual writer, Henri Nouwen, once asked his spiritual director “Who is the me that prays?” And his director answered, “That is the most essential question of prayer.” Reflecting on our internal portrait, of ourselves and of others, is essential work towards greater authenticity in our love.
I appreciate you reading along. Maybe your portrait of me has updated by reading this far, for which, I’m grateful. If you are so inspired to paint me in the ruffled collars of Baroque Spain, please forward me your images.
Talk to you soon,
Schuyler
“I’ve been married to my wife so long I don’t even know who she is anymore !”