Eyes
In 2014, I’ve been spending time in a couple different cities, as a digital nomad.
When I happen to be in a deserted place or don’t go out much, I lose a sense of drive and purpose. I slowly regress to my base level of motivation, inspiration and happiness. Being in a bustling city usually boosts this for me, and the right city is like bliss. What makes a city right?
Today I stepped out into the sizable Indian city of Chennai I’m currently staying in. Walking with no earphones in, much of my attention was on the people I passed. I found myself drawn to observing their eyes. Brows furrowed, not as if deep in thought, but in worry, frustration or annoyance. Eyes downcast. Eyes glazed over. Eyes looking hollow. Eyes staring into the distance, not as if at a goal or dream, but as if having given up hope. Smiles and laughter barely reached them. They avoided my own eyes when I tried to smile at their owners.
When I lived in Berkeley and San Francisco, the eyes were lit. With ambition, with mischief, with excitement. The eyes sought adventure on the horizon. They looked ahead, or up at the sky. The smiles touched the eyes. And the eyes looked happily into yours when you greet them.
Every time I reflect on my feelings towards a new city, I’m reminded of PG’s essay on cities and ambition. To me, the eyes of the people just going about a city are a big part of the vibe. These eyes are infectious. Whether you consciously observe them or not, you begin to adopt the eyes of those around you.
From now on, I’ll be asking myself as I walk through a new city — are these the kinds of eyes that make me happy? And when I leave it, I want to look in the mirror and ask — are my eyes more or less the kind that I want to live around?
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