When I meet someone the first thing I notice are their eyes. I have fallen in love with a person’s eyes before even knowing them.
Eyes, they say they are the doorways to the soul. But… what if you have no soul or don’t believe in having a soul? What is a soul? Can your eyes be a bottomless abyss of nothingness, just two black holes?
Brown, blue, green. Eyes come in so many colors. Some eye colors are more treasured than others. I wonder how this came to be.
When I was working at a portrait studio a mother came in with her child. I didn’t notice at first that she had one purple eye and one dark brown. The purple eye wasn’t entirely purple, but brown at the bottom of the iris, as if her eye was dyed. I was sure if my eyes were failing me, what I saw seeing was just my imagination. I had hoped I would see her again, but I never did.
When puppies are born their eyes are milky in color, as if covered by a thin film, protecting their innocence from the horrors of the world.
I heard that dogs can’t see in color, only in black and white. This made me sad.
Imagine being born with defective eyes, being blind. Never being able to see the person that gave birth to you, or never being able to see the rich, red color of the leaves in the fall or never being able to see your own face. This seems like it would be a blessing at times. A blind person can never say “I look fat” or “I hate how I look,” just like they can never say “I look good today.” The blind can’t judge a person on appearance… they can see past the outer shell into the being of a person. I’ve tried closing my eyes and resisting the urge to open them. This never lasts more than a minute or two.
A boy I knew what color blind, he couldn’t see the color green or red. Once he came dressed in all green, without realizing it. He said that he had to ask his mom to look at what he was going to wear after that embarrassing display of green.
I can touch my eyes. There was short period that I wore contacts instead of my usual contacts because I felt my glasses hid my eyes. At the eye doctor, the nurse made me put the contacts on and take them off so she could show me the proper procedure. I couldn’t get them out and I started to panic, thinking they were stuck.
Some people have pillow lips, while others have the thinnest lips.
Did you know that words sound different depending on how lax or how tight lips are?
Lips can actually be quite helpful in expressing emotions. Here is a quick guide on how to decipher lips: biting of lips can be fear, anxiousness, or a sign you want to kiss someone; licking of the lips is hunger; pouting of the lips can be seen as a sign of sadness and the spontaneous stretching of lips to reveal a smile is a sign of happiness.
In kissing scenes in movies, I become hyper aware of my lips, this causes me to be embarrassed.
Ah, what a mysterious and wondrous organ. Who would have thought the gray, squishy matter is the controlling system of our bodies?
I was channel surfing one day, looking for something to entertain myself when a show on the Discovery Channel caught my attention. The show dealt with the brain and what happens when it is subject to trauma. A couple was on the screen, talking about how the husband became a completely different man after he had had severe trauma to his head. He was a completely functional person, as he had been before the accident, but he longer loved his wife or son. He would leave them for days at a time, returning to his house only because he didn’t want her to file a missing persons report. Apparently, his brain had been shaken enough that his personality changed. He was now an irritable and disagreeable person, compared to the kind man he had been. His wife was close to tears as she explained her fear of losing him. Did she not notice that she had already lost him?
The average brain weighs approximately 3 pounds. In those measly 3 pounds, our brain retains thousands of memories. I was told once that our brains never forget anything, it just tucks memories away.
I am forgetful. Sometimes I am looking for something and I can’t remember where l left it and then hours later, when the need for the item is no longer present, I’ll remember.
What causes mental behaviors? Does it happen because there is something wrong with us from birth or is it because an experience impacts us so much that it alters our brain?
It is a miracle to me that a person can be alive and dead at the same time. Our personality resides in our brains and when that’s gone… well, we’re gone too. Even if our heart is still beating.
With our hands we experience the world. We touch, we feel, we hold and we let go.
Some people have an obsession with hands. They notice how calloused they are, how soft they are, how long or how short the fingers are, how they move and how hands feels in their hands.
My hands are always cold. I make an effort to keep them moisturized, to buffer the fact that they are cold. Every time I shake hands with a person or hold hands with someone, I’m painfully aware of the temperature difference between my hand and the other person’s hand. No one has ever mentioned anything, but I still worry nonetheless.
In learning the guitar, the student needs to learn to control their fingers. It may seem easy, but it is not. It is important to be able to move each finger individually, without disturbing the other fingers. Yet, when moving the index finger from string one to string two, the middle finger wants to tag along and the ring finger and pinky finger want to lift away from the guitar. The fingers are disobedient; it is up to the student to bring them under control.
Hands are like puzzle pieces; they must find the hand that is the perfect match. The hand will meet with other hands that just don’t fit: the hand might be too big, too small, hold on too tight, barely hold on, the hand might weave its fingers with yours or might hug them all together. But once your hand finds its match, it will simply know.
I have seen people that are missing their hand, but I have never spoken to them about it. I have heard of phantom limbs, where it feels as if the hand is still there even though it’s not. I wonder what that feels like, does it feel like the hand is asleep, a tingly numb feeling? Does the feeling ever disappear, or does the ghost of the hand haunt them until they too are gone?
The body as a whole
The body endures so much and requires so much. It requires the just right temperature to function properly, it needs the right amount of nutrients, it needs to rest, it needs to be active, it needs space, it needs to be held, and it needs to be loved.
We have no choice what kind of body we have. Some people have bodies that are naturally prone to illness and will be riddled with ailments like arthritis, while other bodies never have a problem. Some bodies are short, some tall, some thin, some fuller figured. Some bodies are stiff and some a flexible. All bodies, not matter how different, are composed of the same matter. All bodies are easily broken.
Our body are only shells. Once we die, our bodies remain but we are gone.