All your eyes look the same

Over my nomadic travels, I’ve looked into thousands and thousands of your eyes through different interactions of all kinds.

I’ve seen the most brilliant variety of colors in ’em all, ranging from black to brown, blue to green, and even from grey to white.

I’ve also witnessed all ranges of emotions within yours. Joy, anger, ambivalence, agony, sorrow, depression, sexual, curious, innocent, weariness and danger.

Sometimes the emotion in your eyes didn’t match your personaility in the moment. Despair pretending to be joy, anger pretending to be nice, (and vice versa) and so on.

(It’s true when they say you can’t hide behind your eyes, at least to empaths like myself.)

You more authentic folks didn’t have filters. What I saw was what I got. Sometimes it was startling, mostly it was refreshing because you were being real even if it wasn’t always a positive emotion.

Sometimes your eyes tell deep stories, such as the survivor from brain cancer behind the counter at her sandwich shoppe. I could tell she’d been through hell and back and she said so.

Some of your eyes had soul wisdom. It was often those of you living under tough circumstances, such as the extraordinary soul I befriended near my campsite who lost her mother and home at the same time.

Some of your eyes were flinty, unsure, and insecure. Those are the ones I’m wary about because when they’re uncertain like that, I’ve learned their ethics are also uncertain. Like some of the folks I hung out with in Mexico over Christmas who ended up breaking my heart.

And there are the angels like the intellectual nomad who pulled up in a rickety, barely functioning camper next to me and we ended up spending a starry night talking about all kinds of mind-stretching and heart-warming topics. I’m certain he was a fallen angel come to earth in disguise.

The one commonality I’ve noticed lurking behind all your eyes across all these lands?

They’re all the same.

All part of a vast, universal soul.

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