The most beautiful eyes…

No new scribbles today, as I’ve spent much of my time polishing previous posts and some shelved work. But I wanted to share some words that struck a chord along with some in-the-moment reflections:

“The most beautiful eyes are those that seek beauty in others.”

As I’ve gained more experience in life, I’ve begun to realize how profound this ideal is, truly.

It’s much too easy to enter a world where empathy only pierces shallow punctures in our daily routine—where hollow greetings and compliments recited hurriedly in between empty smiles as you rush from point A to B and then B to C have become normalized as decent human interaction.

Crazy isn’t it?

There would have been a time where I would have scoffed at mere thought of such theatrics. But then life taught me how convenient it was to succumb to complacency. Those adopted social norms make it easy to present an acceptable social image, without any need to care sincerely:

We greet passing faces, merely to acknowledge existence. We compliment, without honest admiration. We smile, but only with our mouths—not our eyes. We care, but only in convenience, or while our masks still hang above our vacant eyes that yearn solely for the return of yet another Friday evening.

I’ve asked myself more than a few times:

How did this happen?

Recall the you who thought so deeply, listened so intently, questioned so curiously, smiled so warmly, loved so passionately, pursued so endlessly.

When did the callousness sink in?

Was it when those closest to you started slipping away both to natural and unnatural casualties of life?

Or did it come with the realization that those cliche plot lines—the ones you so presumptuously scorned in the past, both the tragic and ironically comedic—felt so fucking real, when actually lived by you and those you hold dear?

Or was it simply the monotony of adult life, punctuated by milestone upon milestone of calculable successes that are altogether enriching, but may leave starved an uncalculating soul that yearns to make a difference?

Or was it all of it together, happening all at once, one after another?

It’s been too numbing to tell.

Okay. Enough of the gloom and doom. You get the point.

And don’t worry about me: I still think, listen, question, smile, love, and pursue sincerely. But more importantly, I still possess optimism enough to seek beauty in others. It just takes more time in certain moments to peel off the mask and to clean my lenses of the filth.

To return to our quotation, that ability to seek beauty in another is indeed revitalizing. If I may be cliche for a hot minute, it may be one of those moments where you gain much more through the act of giving—through honest appreciation.

Though this was the first time encountering those composed words, reading them felt akin to having a fireside chat with a childhood friend. So thank you, for sharing a cup of familiar warmth and some food for thought with an errant soul that may have strayed too far upon roads unpaved and on too many nights where even stars have relented in rest.

Then again, who knows? With my incredible luck, this quotation also may be a damned cosmic joke in disguise, as some version of my younger self would have expressed a similar understanding.

Perhaps knowledge and experience gained may result in wisdom lost. Or perhaps we’re merely irrational creatures in the end—prone to pitfalls unforeseen as well as those we know to be plotted potentially (i.e. more than likely) along our paths. But in our own arrogance or ignorance, or both even, we believe we’d never slip in ourselves.

So we skip along merrily, until suddenly gravity slams us down beneath the dirt, and from above, we see our own shadow smirking mockingly,

Told you to watch your step, idiot.

What a prick.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.