Eyes, they used to say are the windows to the soul. But not quite sure how far this can hold true anymore.
There are many reasons why this doubt could be valid because our mind is over taking almost the whole being we are. We imagine things in the dark and that is almost always based on our fear. A belt would seem like a snake, for someone who had been through a natural calamity any loud noise or the slightest vibration would have the mind working over time.
Almost all philosophies of the world describe soul as in perfect state, yet the mind alerts us to react to our environment and not respond in most cases. It is the games the mind plays. And why would the mind be our enemy? Blame it on thoughts.
When we know positive thoughts do have an impact on our being why would we not work on it instead of falling prey to words or actions taken by others. Patience ought to be our best virtue and knowing when to walk away is the timing of life, but we are so busy reacting that there is no time to practice patience or to pick on our cue. The signs are all muddled up the information overload we are carrying around. Our emotions take a toll from the news, books and movies. The mind seems to be sincere with all these triggers. The eyes,
therefore could be reflecting any of these thought process.
It seems over the centuries we have developed layers of layers of defensive mechanism to everything that has been observed. Has it become our blueprint for our thought process?
Animals learn by conditioning too and one easy example is the cat. Watch a cat on the street and we would be able to observe how a cat is ever ready to pounce at to bounce off and at all times it thinks the happenings around are related to his existence. We carry a similar baggage too. Maybe the sarcasm you grew up with that was projected to you, the guilt, and the pampering you were showered upon so much so that you think it is our birthright. Almost every day I watch a father lovingly drop his daughter at school. She is probably somewhere in the high school level but there are days he would carry the bag till the gate. Then there is another father who was calling out on his child to be careful with the keys and make sure not to lose it. Many children grow up with such care, but there will be a time when the children in their adulthood stand alone to recollect the fond memories.
Yes, we are weaving memories while we are living. Yet as we walk through the lane of life it is not just the memories we are reflecting on — one of the layers is marked with expectations because we were conditioned in a particular way. The only cure to that is to teach youngsters to expect all kind of situations in life. However, do we want to accept all that life throws at us?
With some situations there is no other choice but to accept the situation and there are other realities where one can walk away from. It is easier said than done. Soon that young daughter who is in high school would be ready to leave the nest for higher studies and there would be at least a moment when she would think of her father as she moves her luggage around all on her own. That luggage could be responsibilities too. Children learn to adapt and survive but to a mother the toes of her baby will bring in a rush of emotion even when the child is 50. Somewhere along both parties, parents and children, learn to hide problems from each other to spare the other party from worrying. They choose to worry on their own, quite often imagining what could and might happen, failing to enjoy the present and the moment.
The magic of sharing is the comfort of accepting and bringing in a new perspective. The moment you share there is almost a reduction in stress level. The only factor to be careful about is with whom one shares their worries. For others it could be just news. It is what makes having a family such an important support system but even greater is being there for someone who does not have a family. Those are the people who for sure seems to have eyes that are windows to their souls because they choose to be there for others.