I find it amazing how cocooned we are from each other. We hide behind iPods, iPhones, and blank scares. Ever run across those mall kiosks with those neo-terrorist sales people who shout “excuse me, ma’am, then try to shove soap slivers or hand creams in your face against your will? Those guys can be as aggressive as a love-starved bull in a corral of cows in heat. My response is to slap my iPhone to my ear and feign an important conversation. Or sometimes I quicken my pace and, with a focused expression of urgent purpose, I glance repeatedly at my watch. This gives the would-be assaulters the impression that I have no time to dilly dally. Third world countries await my grabbing them from the jaws of poverty and starvation. Of course this doesn’t come off too well when I forget to wear a watch. And what about those street beggars who forlornly stare at you through the window with those pathetic cardboard signs pleading for help? You and I both know they make more money than a lot of blue collar workers, tax free. Plus they have a job, which, nowadays, is a rare bonus for many. And they do it all while maintaining a nice bronzed tan. But I try not to look them in the eye. Instead, I stare intently at the traffic light as if I’m at the starting gate for the Indianapolis 500. I feel a little guilty but I know by the nicotine stains on their hands that the money will go to Philip Morris, not a square meal. What I’m saying here is that we’ve stopped connecting with each other. We come home from work and ignore our neighbors rather than hang out in the street or pop in for a visit. Even when we make eye contact, it isn’t really true contact. Sure our eyes are pointed in the general direction of the other person’s eyes, but our minds are turned inward. We’re mired in our own thoughts: what to cook for dinner, whether to trim our toenails today or tomorrow, or which kid’s turn is it to change the kitty litter. So I tried an experiment recently. When I went through the McDonald’s for my usual biscuit and Diet Dr. Pepper, as I grabbed my goodies, I truly looked at the person’s eyes–at their soul, really. It was a strangely nice feeling. Their gaze locked onto mine for a millisecond or two longer. I felt their spirits change, emanating an element of surprise and appreciation. Now I try to make connections whenever possible. I greet strangers as we cross paths in the parking lot, I try to make family and friends feel loved and appreciated. I try to connect. It’s powerful stuff and I’m all the better for it. I draw the line on the mall terrorists, though. After all, I’m only human.
08
Sep