Everyone is an emperor with no clothes.

I’ve only recently realized that everyone is essentially an "Emperor with no clothes"—myself included.

After all, in any given moment, we can't see ourselves—even though we can see others clearly. This applies to everyone; by default, we are all emperors with no clothes.

Everyone else can see us, but we can't see ourselves. Unless we look in a mirror, we can't see our own reflection.

There are plenty of times when we look at celebrities and think, "Yikes, that’s embarrassing." But celebrities are human, too, so it’s only natural for them to have a few cringeworthy traits. Because they’re famous and constantly in the public eye, their flaws just stand out more. We ordinary people are likely riddled with even more embarrassing traits—we just don't attract attention because we aren't famous. Yet, the people around us *can* see those flaws, even if we can't see them ourselves.

We constantly compare ourselves to others, thinking, "I'm superior to that guy" or "He's beneath me." But no matter how far below us we think someone is, they hold one distinct advantage over us:

They can see us more clearly than we can see ourselves.

People have a knack for understanding others. Even if you don't think much of someone, if you actually talk to them, they often make surprisingly astute observations about other people.

"That guy is such a ✕✕✕, isn't he?"

It’s true. They get it. No matter how dull or uninteresting someone might seem, when it comes to other people, they see things clearly and understand the situation. It’s actually quite formidable—even a bit frightening.

That’s why we need to be humble. If you underestimate someone, thinking they’re insignificant, you might end up paying a price. And the thing is, we’re the only ones who can't see our own embarrassing flaws—even though everyone around us knows exactly what they are. Think about it.

"That guy is such a ✕✕✕, isn't he?"

We might badmouth someone like that, but we’d never say it to their face. We never point out someone’s shortcomings in front of them—because doing so would be an insult. In short, the natural human condition is one where everyone else knows your flaws, yet you alone remain unaware of them. Ignorance is bliss.

We are all, every single one of us, the "Emperor with no clothes."

Could anything be more terrifying? People are constantly gossiping about your shortcomings when you aren't around. After all, isn't that exactly what you do? You spend all your time talking about others behind their backs, too. It’s the classic case of the husband being the last to know.

This is a fate no one can escape—not even a powerful president or a CEO. Everyone looks at them and thinks, "Yikes, that is just embarrassing," don't they? Yet, because those figures have power and money, no one says it to their face. Then again, people don't say it to those without power or money either, so perhaps power and money are irrelevant here.

Ah, the Emperor with no clothes.

Possessing power makes the "Emperor" label fit all the more perfectly. But I digress. Today, I don't want to talk about the powerful; I want to talk about each and every one of us.

"I do not despise you, for you shall all become Buddhas."

That is what the Bodhisattva Never-Disparaging (Fukyo Bosatsu) kept saying. Following that spirit, today I would like to say:

"I do not despise you, for you can likely see my flaws better than I can myself."

And if there happens to be someone who dares to point out those embarrassing flaws of yours—things no one else would ever mention—then that person is, in a sense, a Buddha. An infuriating Buddha, perhaps, but someone to whom we truly ought to be grateful.

More on that next time.

Guided by love and mercy

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