Have you ever given much thought to the term eye contact? It's been on my mind recently, possibly because I'm writing about a woman who thinks about it a lot . . . so I have to think about how she would think about it . . . you see where that leads me, right? Thinking about eye contact.
It slipped into Monday's post about pajamas at work when I said it would be awkward to make eye contract with the person sitting across the desk from me if I were wearing pajamas. On Tuesday, it appeared again when I said I wasn't seeing eye-to-eye with the weather. So, today, the eyes have it! I'm just going with my subliminal theme. Did you catch that pun? You know, it should be the "ayes" have it, as in all the "affirmative votes". But I digress.
I'm admittedly fascinated by and slightly obsessed with all things ocular because my own eyesight is nothing to brag about. That imperfection causes a keener appreciation of what I do see, and an awareness of what others see that I may be missing.
When looking into someone's eyes, what do you see? Do you look? Really look? Or, do you glance slightly askew, perhaps at their bangs, or their ear, or the bridge of their nose? My mother used to say that there is great power in eye contact -- power to see the soul -- and maybe you don't want to see the soul. Maybe you don't want anyone seeing your soul, either. Is that it? Because if it is, you've gotta knock that off. Vision isn't guaranteed. I know. Lock eyes and let somebody in while you can.
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