Vachon Imagined

Working in law enforcement, I became increasingly aware of what surrounded me.

The reports.

The photographs.

The interviews.

The stories people carried into the room.

At first, I thought I was simply observing them.

But over time, I realized something else was happening.

It was not only that I was looking at them.

They were looking at me.

What moved outward was also moving inward.

This is why so many spiritual traditions caution us to guard what we continually consume.

Not because the world should be feared,

but because whatever we repeatedly attend to eventually begins to shape us.

It becomes familiar.

Its language becomes our language.

Its fears become our fears.

Its urgency becomes our urgency.

This is true for police officers, investigators, therapists, physicians, journalists—anyone who spends their days immersed in human suffering.

We can go so deeply into what we are trying to understand that we begin to carry it long after we have left the room.

The desire to solve.

To fix.

To eradicate.

Sometimes even to seek revenge in the name of justice.

Without awareness, these movements quietly become our own.

And this is where compassion becomes difficult.

The officer can forget the human being behind the crime.

The offender can forget the human being behind the badge.

The person searching for belonging may find it in a criminal organization.

Even there, there is a longing to belong.

Awareness does not excuse harm.

But neither does it deny the humanity from which it arises.

It allows us to see clearly without becoming consumed by what we see.

Image carries enormous power in the human world.

A respected leader falls.

A trusted pastor has an affair.

A decorated officer crosses a line.

People ask, “How could this happen?”

Perhaps the better question is:

How could it not?

Human beings are moved by fear, desire, attachment, loneliness, and hope.

None of us stand outside the human condition.

This is why we are told to guard the heart.

Not with suspicion.

Not with prejudice.

Not with self-righteousness.

But with awareness.

Guard it in the presence of God.

Guard it without becoming hardened.

Without believing that what passes through you must become you.

Because much of what enters awareness is just that—

passing through.

It need not become your identity.

It need not become your heart.

You can witness it,

learn from it,

and let it continue on its way.