Photo by Gorgeous Eyes on Flckr
At a retreat I attended recently called Metamorphosis, one of our first activities involved walking around in an enclosed area. Each time we crossed paths with someone, we'd have to hold eye contact for...1 minute? 2 minutes? 3 minutes?
I'm not sure, but it felt like hours. At first, it was terrifying! Especially because at this point, we were still virtually strangers.
I imagine for many people, extended eye contact is uncomfortable. We're accustomed to averting our eyes when we see someone on the street. Even when we see someone we know, we still don't hold the gaze for long. We're told it's rude to stare; we don't want to make the other person anxious.
And on a personal level, I feel vulnerable. Exposed. Are they scrutinizing my face? Judging me?
As a kid, others would frequently comment (not so nicely) on the way I looked and talked and expressed myself. I felt like I needed a manual for being human.
So I made myself invisible.
It felt safe and cozy, sitting behind the scenes. So much better than being mocked on stage.
But this invisibility cloak extended to my soul as well. That's not to say I'm some sort of ice queen. I'm warm, friendly, approachable. I get along with nearly everyone.
But I have few close friends.
I'd always say I'm just an introvert and prefer to hang out by myself, which is partially true. But deep down, I crave these close connections. In social situations, I'll see groups huddled together, sharing conversations only they are privy to.
Who knows? The conversations could be completely inane. Still, my heart aches for that intimacy.
But I keep up the shield. What's stopping me from letting it down?
Fear that I'll get hurt. Judged (as my mom frequently does, which is why I keep conversations light and superficial now). Rejected. That I will get close to someone, and then they'll either turn on me or fade from my life, which has happened many times before.
Honestly, that's one of the reasons I got into drugs. It was one of the few things that helped me relax into intimacy and form deep connections with people in a short span of time (and send long, heartfelt texts that I'd be super mortified by the next morning).
All of this was going through my mind during these moments of eye contact. I was tempted to laugh or smile or do something. And it wasn't just the exterior they were staring at (I certainly wasn't scrutinizing every facial feature).
When you stare into someone's eyes, you are looking into their soul.
And this exchange of soul-gazing was kind of like jumping off a really tall diving board. Scary, but as you sink into the water and let the momentum take over, amazing!
You know how people say that your whole life flashes before your eyes before you die? Well, in this moment, it was like their life was flashing before my eyes!
Like suddenly I knew their entire life story—not the surface-level things like their job title and favorite ice cream flavor, but their soul story.
And there was just this softening; I got very emotional as I felt, like, this wave of gooeyness wash over me, melting away the crusty layer that kept me several degrees removed from everyone around me.
And to be fair, as much as I fear others' judgment, I can be judgy myself sometimes. I think I have this person all pinned down and know exactly what they're like just based on my first impression.
Looking into someone's eyes, though, instantly vanquishes all that judgment. You realize everyone has a rich inner life and has doubts and passions and aspirations just like you. In this way, it's also a deeply humbling experience.
Now, I had pretty high expectations for an event called Metamorphosis. I was expecting to metamorphosize into this ultra confident, performance artist/warrior woman. I guess that was a bit of a tall order for a four-day retreat.
On the final day, when we had our "performance" of sorts, everyone else was singing and acting and doing avant garde dances and acrobatics and fire spinning (ok, I'm exaggerating a little), and I got up there and in a shaky voice, said a few things about how awesome the event was.
But one change I DID experience—an unexpected one—was this softening. And others seemed to pick up on it too.
At one point during the temascal, the woman sitting next to me—who I had befriended during over the week, but we weren't super close—asked me if she could hold my hand. Not because she was scared, but because she sensed I wanted her to.
It sounds silly, but my heart exploded with joy.
Today, two complete strangers hugged me. Again, I feel ridiculous even writing this. On the page, these events look so miniscule.
But to me, they were huge. It was a sign that my crust was melting away.
Next time, I'll be the one to make the first move.