The eyes are the windows to the soul

I went through a period of depression in my late teens and early twenties. There wasn’t exactly one particular reason, just more of an overall sense of unfulfillment and “what’s it all for?” mindset.  When I was 20, I came home one particularly rough day and looked in the mirror. I was searching for something, anything… I desperately wanted the answer to why I was so depressed or better yet, the key to free me from it. I recalled the saying, “the eyes are the windows to the soul,” and I stared into the reflection’s eyes, searching for my soul. But the image stared back at me, cold and detached. There was nothing behind those eyes, no soul, no hope, no nothing.

I became angry and began lashing out at the mirror, frantically trying to claw my way into those eyes, into that impalpable place where the soul supposedly resides. I screamed and sobbed and attacked for what seemed like an eternity (but was probably only seconds) until something suddenly shifted in me: I saw myself. I actually saw myself, as I was in that moment, alone in a bathroom, cursing and clawing at a mirror, snot dripping down my chin, tears flooding my face and neck; it was not a pretty sight.

And in all that craziness, I couldn’t help but laugh. I was hysterical in my hysteria! I laughed as hard as I had cried only seconds before. I had actually gone insane and it was the funniest thing to watch! After laughing for what seemed like another bout of eternity, I settled down and looked at myself in the mirror again, now a calm, serene and peaceful reflection lovingly looked back at me. I had released the gambit of emotions and I felt utterly and overwhelmingly relieved, as if I had broken through some invisible shield.

I never “saw” my soul that day, through the windows of my physical eyes, but I like to think I “felt” or “experienced” it. Whatever that shift was that occurred, it allowed me a glimpse of who I really am, a playful, happy go lucky and serene person.  One who knows that all really is well, no matter how insane the exterior world (including myself!) appears to be.

I’m happy to report that I’m more of that playful, happy go lucky and serene person now than ever before. Those days of lashing out at a mirror (or anything for that matter) are like a distant dream or an old movie I once saw in another lifetime. And today, I don’t have to ask “what’s it all for?” I know what it’s all for. LIFE. Life itself. In all its beauty and glory and wonder. Life itself is what it’s all for.