In the scriptures, the eye is often used as a symbol of a person's ability to receive light of God.
Matthew 6:22: The light of the body is the eye; if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.
I have had a lot of thoughts about eyes lately. Here's one concept that my aunt Robin helped me understand better. You can see a lot if you look into someones eyes. Even though our eyes are relatively small in comparison to most other parts of our body, they are the most telling part of us. People who are in pain have a different look in their eyes. This seems to stay with them even when they pain has passed, but looks more like empathy and compassion. There is a hint of pain that remains making the compassion and empathy so real and genuine.
Maybe this is part of what Shakespeare meant when he said, "The eyes are the window to your soul."
I started to think about the idea of "not staring." It seems like many parents teach their children to "not stare." I find this idea very intriguing. Usually it goes something like this: Mom and Susie walk into the grocery store and see Jim (who has a beard and is in a wheelchair). Susie is 4 years old, so she stares at him. Her mother quickly whispers "Don't stare!" and doesn't give the man any attention. The mother and daughter walk just far enough away from him that they can easily avoid him without it looking like they are deliberately doing this. The mom acts like he is invisible. She expects Susie to do the same. I'm sure Jim feels invisible when he is treated like this. I don't think Jim forgets that he is in a wheelchair just because he is ignored. I'm sure it isn't helpful to him. What could be done instead? Maybe the mom could just talk about it with Susie. She could explain that not everyone's bodies are the same his legs don't allow him to walk like hers. He has a wheelchair to help him get around. Why was Susie staring in the first place? Is she just a bratty little 4 year old that likes to make people who have an obvious difference feel bad. No! She is curious and notices that there is something different about Jim. And what if Jim overheard the conversation. He would probably appreciate it; appreciate that this mother was teaching her child something valuable instead of teaching her to ignore.
My kids do this all the time. If there is a kid crying at the store, Lincoln stares. He is concerned and doesn't pretend he isn't. He doesn't know how to socially pretend yet. I usually tell him that the crying child's mommy will give the child a hug and the child will feel better. That is usually sufficient for him. I like the way children act. They act instinctively. They don't rationalize and do weird things like adults do. They just do what is natural even if that causes them to stare.
Since when is ignoring people better than staring at them? When you "ignore" them, you have already stared a little and looked away, so you are really guilty of staring AND ignoring. Ignoring is an active process. Not noticing is obviously passive, but when you ignore someone, you are saying," I KNOW you are there but I will not look at you."
I have noticed a lot of "dodgy eyes" since my experience began in July. I'm not sure if that is a technical term, but it means that people won't meet your eyes. They won't look at you.
I am starting to accept that this is just the way it is. A lot of people will stare and then quickly look away when I try to meet their eyes. It made me really angry at first. I thought, "I am sorry that seeing me for 12 seconds is making you uncomfortable. At least you are only uncomfortable for 12 seconds. I'm sorry you don't know what to say, but don't avoid me." I still feel angry sometimes, but that emotion moved to less volatile and cleaner feeling of just feeling hurt. Now it is just part of the deal and it's okay most the time. I know that I will have to deal with this phenomenon in the future by being forgiving and knowing that people just don't know what to do. I hope that I will be able to see that people are all dealing with me in the only way they know how. I can feel the seeds of forgiveness and understanding being planted, but they are not mature yet.
I also know that I will always remember how hurtful it was and it will change the way I act in the future. When you feel open and exposed, it is surprising how a small act (good or bad) affects you. It's not like I meet everyone's eyes either. I'm sure tons of people look at me and I don't meet their eyes. I can't handle what might or might not happen, so I keep my eyes in a place where I have control over what I see; usually down.
The first time I went "out" after having Eli (besides the mortuary and cemetery) was 10 days after we had Eli. There was a birthday lunch at school, and, because Ethan's birthday is in November, we were invited to go. Ethan had been talking about it for months. He wanted Domino's pizza and bread sticks. He is pretty easy to please. You basically go and sit in the lunchroom at a "special" table and eat lunch with you birthday boy. It is low key and you don't have to interact with anyone. I was terrified to go. Don't ask me exactly why. I felt like my heart and guts had been ripped open and were hanging everywhere. I felt like looking at someone or having someone look at me was like rubbing sandpaper against an open wound. It was a terrible and weird feeling that has persisted, but gotten a little better. The only reason I was going was for Ethan. Jason was there with me, so it shouldn't have been a big deal, but it was. We walked in and found our way to the back table (my choice). As we walked back I saw someone I knew. We are friends and know each other, but I wouldn't say we are close. She looked at my face. looked at my belly (now considerably smaller than the last time she saw me) and looked away. Not a word of comfort or sympathy. Not even a look of it. I wanted to throw up. It was awful being the sight and subject of obvious heartache with no response. I'm sure she was doing the only thing she knew how to do. I knew that would be the beginning of many experiences like this. It is still happening, but most people have stopped looking at my stomach.
It's hard going through the grieving process and then adding on things like this. It's not like it doesn't hurt enough without additional wounds inflicted. But, again, I am learning, like most people that grieve, that many people make it worse by seemingly small instances. It is hard to know that I have to forgive and be compassionate with them when I wish they would be compassionate with me. I think everyone that has talked to me has said somethings that has hurt in one way or another. I don't say this to play a martyr, but rather to say that my emotions are all over the place and a comforting thing one moment, might be a hurtful thing the next moment. I recognize my oversensitivity, so I find I am don't get too hung up on that. I guess I am trying to say that people are always afraid to say the "wrong thing." I would say: you probably will, but who cares. I appreciate anything given in love. It is the feeling behind the words and not the words themselves. Plus, I greatly admire people who are terrified to say something and do it anyways. I have had people come up to me, literally shaking and give me a hug. I can see how hard it is and I just want to comfort them and tell them how grateful I am for them being brave. I feel bad that I made them so nervous.
5 months ago I would say I was 100% angry, hurt, etc and 0% compassionate towards peoples ignorance and insecurity. Now I would say that the 0% has increased quite a bit....I'm not going to say a number because it will probably change tomorrow, but it is higher than 0. I know that my happiness depends on moving the number much higher.
Always take a second to look someone in the eye.
