I'm only out today for a little while. Later I know I'll be hanging out at home all day, and even though many people are coming over for a party, many people who I haven't met, I think this is my best opportunity to make eye contact with someone.
I enter a coffee shop. There aren't many people here. A man using his computer - I choose not to interrupt him. A woman waiting for her drinks. Not sure why I don't approach her. Nerves.
Anyway, it was my intention to stay here and read, so I sit down. I'm also camping, waiting for the next participant.
Which doesn't take long. A pretty girl enters the coffee shop from the back door. I see her to my left, checking out the pastry case. Her clothing attracts my eye. She's wearing a long black knit kind of shawl/cloak over her outfit.
I know this is the person to ask. I can feel my nerves because, hey, she's attractive.
(What bearing at all does this have on whether or not I feel nervous? Seems to me that what I feel nervous about when approaching a stranger is what they'll think of me, if I will get rejected. Why does the attractiveness of the other person, or rather, my level of attraction to them, matter? No reason why this factor would have a bearing on the likelihood that they'll reject me.)
So I prepare myself to approach her. I put away my wallet and keys (they're sitting out on the table) and walk to the bathroom as a way of "feeling out the space" in which I am about to make my approach. I guess this is a way of creating safety. Oh, now that I'm writing, I know why I did this. I did this so that on my way back from the bathroom she would know that I had seen her. She may not have known that I noticed her when she was placing her order, as my back was to her (but I was looking).
(I am not sure exactly why this matters... Wait! Seems like an attempt to try to reduce vulnerability! I approach her, she says "how did you choose me, or when did you notice me? I noticed you when I came in and your back was towards me" and I would say "well, you walked in, stood to my left, and I noticed you at the pastry case, so I turned to check you out." Boom. Confession. Vulnerability.)
Anyway, after returning to my seat, I turn around and speak to her.
I say "hi" and she faces me and greets me.
"While you're waiting for your latte would you be willing to participate in an experiment with me?"
"Sure," she says, with a smile, two parts interest, and dash of caution.
"OK. Every day I ask a stranger to make eye contact with me for 60 seconds. Is that something you might be willing to do?"
"Sure," she says again, with a slightly bigger smile and little less caution.
"Don't you do that anyway?" (That is, doesn't that just happen in my day-to-day, or isn't that happening right now?)
"Yes," I say, "but here's how this works. I have a timer that's set to 60 seconds. During that time we'll sit and look at each other without speaking or looking away. Do you still want to do it?"
She says "sure" and turns to face her body towards me, sitting cross-legged on the bench.
I start the timer and we gaze at each other. Here is what I observe and feel:
I look at let right eye first, then her left. I change which of her eyes I am focusing on a few times. She also changes which of my eyes she is looking at, but appears to settle on the left eye. She smiles, then her smile straightens, then she smiles again. This happens a few times during the first 20 - 25 seconds. Her eyes are smiling the whole time.
First I notice the light brown of her eyes. Hazel, I guess. Then the dark ring around her iris. Then the clay-red dash of color in the bottom right area of her left eye. I keep seeing more subtle details and more colors in her eyes.
Around 25 - 30 seconds she shifts her posture from centered, sitting straight and rests her head on her right hand, leaning a bit now towards her right side. My chin has been resting on my hands, my elbows on the table, the whole time. I maintain my posture, so now I'm looking a bit to my left to focus on her.
Around 40 seconds in it feels like we have our own space. A bubble of shared energy. It seems like there is less space between us and we are sharing a connection, like there is something warm and relaxed flowing back and forth between us. I feel calm and content, satisfied, like we accomplished something.
The timer beeps. She says:
"You turned into some kind of animal."
Wow! What an observation! I did not expect to hear this.
Either I did not ask her what kind of animal she sensed in me, or I forgot her answer. I wish I had asked and remembered.
I tell her about the connection I felt, about the space we had and the energy, synergy I felt flowing. I do not recall her response.
"Well, I have to get back to school," and she stands to leave.
"Wait, there's one more part. I also ask participants if they are willing to let me use their first name and their picture on my blog where I am documenting the experiment. Are you willing to do that?"
I get my forth "sure" and another smile. Great! She sits back down.
She asks what the blog is, and I tell her I can write down the URL. She pulls out a small rectangle of paper, and I reach to get my camera and pen.
"What have you learned from this?"
"That people are much more willing to participate in all parts of the experiment than I thought, including the use of their name and picture on the blog. I thought people would be less willing to do that."
Somehow I fumble with my pen and drop it on the floor. She picks it up.
This is the part of the experiment that is off script for me and I notice that I am more nervous than during the early parts. Delicious.
While I'm writing down the URL of this blog on her scrap of paper she says that I have a very authentic way of... How did she say it? Something like "doing this" or "interacting" or "approaching her."
And that's just it. I'm intentionally trying to approach people with no armor on. I am trying to get comfortable with that. That is something I want out of this experiment for myself. And also for others. I hope that I can be an inspiring example. I want to live in a world where people interact with each other, by default, in a more authentic way.
Her name is Chacha. She says it's French. It's pronounced like "shasha."
I take her photograph and she approves. She leaves the coffee shop and I immediately begin to write this post.
Thank you, Chacha.
