The Weekend, Part I: Eye Contact

It's about a mile to walk between the train station and my office in downtown Seattle. For months I've made the connection via bus, which is pretty good for avoiding the elements but pretty bad for taking advantage of an exercise opportunity twice a day.  Wanting to make a change, I recently got some better walking shoes and committed to taking the heel-toe express. I have been enjoying the 20 minutes I get to spend outside among the people of this city.  It's also a great chance to really wake up after dozing on the train for a half hour.

On Thursday my firm brought in a speaker who gave a presentation on how to effectively handle challenging interpersonal relationships. The speaker spent some time talking about body language and, specifically, about eye contact. She made several interesting points and it reminded me of another conversation I had with a friend this week about "shifty Seattle eyes." My friend observed that most passersby on the street can't hold eye contact for more than a fraction of a second before their gaze darts away.  I had noticed the same thing and, more troubling, I've noticed myself behaving in kind from time to time.  I don't want to be a darty-eyed dude.  There is a certain confidence that is projected when you're good at establishing and maintaining eye contact.  A few people in my life stand out to me as being really good at holding eye contact, and I always feel comfortable and confident around these people.

I hadn't thought much more about this subject until the following morning (Friday), when I passed by a woman on the street. I didn't notice anything remarkable about her at first; she was not beautiful or ugly or tall or short, her clothes were not flashy or dirty or anything out of the ordinary.  I glanced up at her as she hopped off the bus that had stopped up ahead and prepared to look ahead and keep walking. That's when something happened that changed the course of my commute.  She looked me in the eye and smiled at me. It wasn't a big goofy grin. It wasn't a creepy grin. It was a small, simple smile and it was aimed directly at me. And it nearly stopped me in my tracks.  I could not help but smile back.  As we passed by each other I suddenly felt warm and happy where moments before my thoughts were merely drifting.  What surprised me was the intensity of the warmth and the happiness.  I still can't make sense of it, really; I all I know is that it was real and it was powerful.

So I decided something.  I determined that for the rest of my walk to the office I was going to scan the face of everyone I passed, try to make eye contact, and smile a friendly smile.  Something in that woman's smile made me lose any inhibitions I might have felt and I decided to be completely indiscriminate - smiling at the old, young, attractive, not attractive, scary, sketchy, ragged, polished, and potentially homeless all in the same way.  And I did.  And it was amazing.

At 8:00 on a weekday morning one passes scores or probably hundreds of people walking a mile through the heart of downtown.  Most people gave me the shifty Seattle eyes I would have expected, and I didn't really make a connection there.  Some people looked startled or surprised and unsure how to react.  A couple of people actually looked touched in the same way that I felt touched by the woman several blocks earlier.  In particular, one large man with an black eye patch (think Dale Chihuly) on the corner of 4th and Madison had a reaction that morphed from surprise to a very heart-felt smile-back - all in an instant.

By the time I arrived at my office I was bursting with happiness.  In a very small yet meaningful way I had made a connection with dozens of my fellow people.  The connections were satisfying and I felt like the experience had completely broadened my focus for the day.  Even in my interactions in the office I found myself doing more to study the nuances in the faces of my co-workers.  I was looking for chances simply to smile at them in a (hopefully) disarming and connecting way.

Hopefully I can make this a habit.  I'm sure it will take some practice.  If you are someone who I see regularly, you might see me giving you a smiling staredown over the next week or two until I get the new habit all worked out.  The next time you're walking through a crowded place I suggest you give this little exercise a try.  It will change your day!