👁️ The eyes have it

In university, I had a friend who came back from summer break looking subtly yet unmistakably changed. Something about her face. Something about her confidence.

Our friend group squinted, tilted our heads, and tried to figure it out. What were we seeing…and feeling?

With wide eyes, I blurted out, “You had your eyes done!”

Turns out, she had gone to South Korea for eyelid surgery. To go from monolids to double eyelids.

You see, many East Asians are born with eyelids that are smooth from the lash line up to the brow, called monolids. A common cosmetic procedure adds a visible crease or fold in the upper eyelids, to give the double eyelid look. Rounding the overall shape of the eyes. Making the eyes appear larger or more open.

Recently, I met up with another friend at the beach. Even though we saw each other regularly on Zoom, we hadn’t been together in real life for almost a year. And I had that same feeling. Something about his eyes felt different.

As we caught up along the boardwalk, he filled me in on his latest stories and aha moments. He’s been in a season of surrender and grief. Washed with floods of feelings and realizations. It wasn’t until we sat side by side on a bench that I saw it. No, he didn’t have his eyes done.

I leaned in and whispered, “Your eyes have softened.”

I can’t describe what softened eyes looks like. It’s not about a crease, a shape, or a colour that you see. It’s a feeling.

His eyes used to hold back, slightly distant, a little guarded. If his eyes had hands, they were like a celebrity and their bodyguard—palms up, shielding the flash, blocking the gaze, saying no to paparazzi and fans. But his gaze is closer now, like a veil has lifted. Relaxed, like a window wide open. And those eyes’ hands, are now reaching out and waving, come in.

I’m thinking about other eyes I see.

The ones that dart away quickly. The ones dulled by exhaustion. Eyes that once sparkled now seem far away, like the soul behind them has slipped into hiding. Some feel shuttered, like windows with blackout blinds. No light in, no light out. Others look back like open fields, undefended and alive.

Then there are the children. Eyes wide. Scanning the room. Searching for someone to meet them. They don’t fake anything. They don’t filter their gaze. They just look, with presence and hope. Still learning the world by seeing into others. Like a game of Knock, Knock…Who’s There? 

I’m worried that we’re losing this.

We think we see each other on screens, but it’s not the same. It doesn’t let us feel one another. Not in the way we used to. Not in the way we’re designed to.

Our eyes are more than tools for vision. They offer warmth, shelter, nourishment. They ask for help. They soften pain. They co-regulate. They remind us that we’re not alone.

But in this screen-lit, fast-scrolling world, our eyes are tired. Our attention is fractured.

What happens when we stop seeing each other? What happens when no one looks long enough to feel?

Maybe we become strangers to one another. Maybe we become strangers to ourselves.

We need to return.

🎶 One Song

It’s gentle, reassuring, and unhurried togetherness. Like sitting on a bench with a friend. Feeling seen. Seeing feeling.

🎧 This week’s one song.

✍️ One Poem

In each other’s eyes is the place where we’re never alone.

〰️ One Move

👁️ To strengthen and protect your eyes.

Choose someone you trust. It could be a partner, a friend, a sibling, a child. Sit face to face. Set a timer for 1 minute.

Softly look into each other’s eyes. Let go of any need to entertain, smile, analyze, fix, or “do it right”. This is the practice of being with, not doing.

After the minute, take turns sharing:

• What did you notice?

• What did you see?

• What did you feel?

This is less about explanation, and more about witnessing.

If you’re doing this solo, you can also try it in a mirror—with yourself. You may be surprised what you see.

Let’s call this move, Look and Feel.

May you remember the language that lives in the eyes.
May you look gently and be looked upon with care.
May your gaze soften with love, with grief, with wonder.
May you see clearly—not just the surface, but the soul.
And when someone meets your eyes and truly sees you,
May you let yourself be seen.

😍 Karen

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