Is someone watching?

One very icy day I stepped out of my car and with one foot still in the car the one on the ice went out from under me and I turtled. One foot over my head, in a skirt. The first thing I did after I got up? Looked around to make sure no one saw me. I had whiplash and a mild concussion where my head slammed into the concrete, and a big bruise on my hip. Was that what I was concerned about? No, I worried someone saw me. Last winter we had a snowstorm come through. In typical Kansas weather fashion, it was 50 degrees and dry in the morning. Storm was supposed to come through that evening. At 3:30 I’m in the parking lot in a hoodie and fingerless weight lifting gloves (just glad I had left them in the car) scraping my windshield with a CD case. And hoping nobody saw me. I’m a native for crying out loud. I know better.
Just this last summer I wrecked my bike. Wiped out. Dog ran in front of me. I was on the trail, not cement, which was a good thing. I was cut and scraped and bruised all down my left side. Left temple, left cheek, left shoulder, arm, both knees and the outside of my left leg, thigh and calf. Also banged up both palms. I sat up on the ground, didn’t pop up as fast as I would have liked, and made sure everything was still working, and was so glad no one saw me.
How many times do we hear a story about someone that thought no one saw what they were doing, or worse yet a video? Think of all the things it’s embarrassing to be seen doing. Picking your nose. Pulling your underwear out of your butt. Your skirt blowing up on a windy day. Or that little impromptu dance that you wouldn’t want even your husband or kids to see. I won’t even talk about hoping people don’t see how your kids behave.
On the opposite side of that, what about when you do something well? That doesn’t bother me. When I do something good, I don’t look around to see if anyone is watching. I’m just happy I got it right. Steve told me that Saturday when he was running home when he passed 26.2 miles on his garmin he put his arms over his head in victory (that’s marathon distance, first time he ran that far). This was on a fairly busy street around lunch time, but he didn’t care if people wondered why he was waving his arms over his head. He was in the moment. If I had been there I would have cheered for him. I take Nate to the park and throw soft toss for him. For the baseball illiterate, uninformed, or just don’t care, that means I squat 5 feet from him and “soft toss” the ball between knee and hip high and he knocks the crap out of it. (Hasn’t hit me yet, but when he does, I’ll look around and hope no one saw it). This park is at the police training center. They come out for break while we are there most nights. Nate hasn’t got a clue they are out there. In true athlete form, he only hears the voices inside his head (watch “For the Love of the Game”) or his coach. That’s it. I hear the police trainees. Oooooh, he got ahold of that one. That one’s over the fence! That one’s over the fence and the street. Wonder where he goes to school? This is Heights district. And so on. He has never noticed they are out there, and unlike me, he’s doing something well.
What I’ve really been thinking about in regards to this is not what would I do different if I knew people were watching (hopefully fall down less) but if people only see me in one element, do they know the real me? If someone that knows me is watching me does it match up with what they already know? Am I the same at work I am at home and church and the grocery store? Am I the same at my kids events? Biggest question is “am I real”? What should I change? Because the reality is, someone is always watching.