Steamy windows
It has been said that the eyes are windows to one’s soul.
If anyone has ever seen my windows up close, they know the large panes of glass are made of high-grade materials and expertly cut to ensure the light is perfectly reflected and refracted.
Unfortunately, there’s always a touch of schmutz on the glass, marring the view.
So, what happens when someone is able to see beyond the schmutz and gets to the core?
During a fundraising event, various names and faces pass by you as you are introduced to them and them to you. A shake of the hand, a mention of a name, a nod of the head, a little smile, and you’re onto the next person in line.
This time is different.
While sitting at one of the tables, I’m asked to come over and meet several people of a specific organization. Within this group, I am introduced to someone.
When our hands clasp, our eye contact incites something inside me. A feeling of warmth beings at the back of my retinas, flows through nerve endings, up my head to my brain, and down my neck, past my chest to my gut. The warmth gets hotter. The heat is like lava, burning though me.
Internally, my windows steam up.
This set of eyes connects with me, knows me, wants me, and ultimately, scares me.
Then, I look away because I don't want them seeing what I knew is already there. I am a little uncomfortable with myself, in my own skin, but it isn’t reflected in my professional demeanour.
The hand-clasp releases and I am introduced to the next person. Nothing is felt. No warmth, no heat, no lava.
The temperature drops to normal.
The windows aren’t steamy, anymore.
If anyone has ever seen my windows up close, they know the large panes of glass are made of high-grade materials and expertly cut to ensure the light is perfectly reflected and refracted.
Unfortunately, there’s always a touch of schmutz on the glass, marring the view.
So, what happens when someone is able to see beyond the schmutz and gets to the core?
During a fundraising event, various names and faces pass by you as you are introduced to them and them to you. A shake of the hand, a mention of a name, a nod of the head, a little smile, and you’re onto the next person in line.
This time is different.
While sitting at one of the tables, I’m asked to come over and meet several people of a specific organization. Within this group, I am introduced to someone.
When our hands clasp, our eye contact incites something inside me. A feeling of warmth beings at the back of my retinas, flows through nerve endings, up my head to my brain, and down my neck, past my chest to my gut. The warmth gets hotter. The heat is like lava, burning though me.
Internally, my windows steam up.
This set of eyes connects with me, knows me, wants me, and ultimately, scares me.
Then, I look away because I don't want them seeing what I knew is already there. I am a little uncomfortable with myself, in my own skin, but it isn’t reflected in my professional demeanour.
The hand-clasp releases and I am introduced to the next person. Nothing is felt. No warmth, no heat, no lava.
The temperature drops to normal.
The windows aren’t steamy, anymore.
Authored by S at 12:00 am
2 Comments:
Did said connectee's windows also steam up?
(Wait, what am I thinking -- how could they NOT?!?)
least it was your eyes and not your face, the red flush face unfortunately always gives me away.
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