One of the most basic of human desires is the desire to feel “seen.” We want to be seen for who we are and have the unique gifts that we bring to the world appreciated and valued.

An incident that took place with my daughter about a year ago helped me realize how easy it is not to “see” and appreciate those around us even those who are nearest and dearest to us. My daughter is eleven years old now but was ten at the time of the incident I’m writing about.

She and I had been talking about rituals and the importance they can play in our lives how they can help us slow down and pay attention to being present. She immediately suggested we have a tea ceremony. I was delighted that she came up with this idea. I used to live in Japan and had brought home a beautiful tea set and suggested to my daughter that we use it.

She ran into the kitchen and jumped up onto the counter top so as to reach the shelf where the tea set was located. Under normal circumstances, I would have told her to get down and insisted on getting it myself. I would have acted from a place of fear and lack of faith – fear that she would drop it and a lack of faith that she would treat the tea set with the care that it deserved.

Instead I held myself back, trusting that she understood how delicate and precious it was. My ability to trust and have faith in my daughter in that moment, led to a wonderful set of events that enabled me to “see” my daughter in ways that might not have been possible otherwise.

If I had insisted on getting the tea set myself, I would have sent her a clear message that I didn’t trust her and she might have responded by closing down. Instead, that one instant of trust and faith seemed to release something in my daughter. By feeling seen as the trustworthy and responsible person that she is, she came out of herself and I was able to experience her creativity and genius in ways that amazed me.

While she was getting the tea set off the shelf, she saw two special teacups. These two cups were not part of the set. Like the tea set, I had bought them in Japan. They were a special kind of pottery glazed a burnt orange on the outside and white on the inside. Despite having brought them home with me from Japan decades ago, I hadn’t used them, keeping them for a “special” occasion.

I told my daughter how special they were to me and that I thought our tea ceremony was a “special” occasion. She hugged me and smiled. Then, she told me to sit down and keep busy while she prepared the “ceremony” in the living room.

For some reason, I was able to hold back my controlling nature and simply give her full rein to do whatever she was planning on doing without worrying about what she might use, whether she might make a mess, and/or how long it would take.

First, she brought me a selection of teas to choose from. Then, she disappeared into the living room and after about a half hour called me in. Thanks to my letting go of the need to control, I was able to see how awesomely capable and creative my daughter is when I don’t interfere.

When I came into the living room I was amazed. She had spent the entire half hour taking different objects from around the house that she knew were important to me in some way and had arranged them in front of two pillows that she had set out for us to sit on. She had clearly put an enormous amount of thought into considering what objects to use and, based on her choices, it was clear how well she knows me.

She had placed the objects directly in front of the television on which there was a beautiful image of my daughter and my step-son when they were much younger. She had put a DVD of home movies into the DVD player. Then, she had run through the DVD to find a scene with both of them smiling and paused the DVD so there would be a beautiful huge image of two of the people I care most about in the world right in front of us.

Arranged in front of the television was the tea pot (in which she had prepared tea) along with the two special teacups. She had also brought in and lit candles and incense. Around this, she had placed different objects including a small mirror with a backing of wood inlaid with mother of pearl (a gift from a friend in Japan), a carved black stone jaguar that I keep on my desk, and a drawing of a cat that she had made for me.

Then, she suggested we sip our tea and share our thoughts with each other. The ceremony she had created had exactly the result that she had planned it gave us a vehicle for sitting with each other and being completely present with and to each other. I am so glad I was able to slow down and let go long enough to “see” my daughter.

When is the last time you took the time to “see” the people around you?