Wait, wait, eye contact... hello!

I exercise outside in my neighborhood many mornings during the week. Sometimes I wake up feeling perky and eager to say good morning to people I pass by. I feel really connected with the universe on those mornings, and proud to be a human. Sometimes I wake up with social anxiety and adamant about not making any eye contact with anyone, not even puppies and babies. On those days, I feel annoyed that I am even expected to acknowledge living beings. Respect my boundaries, god.

But even when I do decide to make eye contact and say hello to people, I always feel awkward about the timing of the whole encounter. I don't want to make eye contact too early because the stare may have to sustain for an uncomfortable amount of time. I usually pretend I am so engrossed in the NPR story I am listening to on my walkman, that I am oblivious to the outside world. I mean, really engrossed. I don't even see what's in front of m... Oh! (smile) Good morning! And pass.

Most mornings, I pass by the same 20 men who live in a halfway house down the street. I am pretty sure they have all recently been released from jail. They walk to a coffee shop for breakfast every morning. I try to make it a point to smile and say hello. It's important to help them integrate back into society. But I try to use my I-am-a -kind-person-but-have-boundaries-show-no-teeth smile with a nod. After all, they are a bunch of men who live in a halfway house down the street and have just been released from jail.

The workplace poses the same problem only worse because these are people you see all day. Now I take my iPhone with me whenever I walk around so I can stare at that until the moment to make eye contact occurs. Oh yeah, I gotta download that Labyrinth App now! Touch, touch, zoom, tou... Oh, hi! (smile) And pass.

There is one woman in my office who NEVER says hello to anyone and NEVER makes eye contact with anyone. For a while, I thought she was so cold. But I have grown to appreciate her consistent policy. I love passing her in the halls now because I follow her lead. It's liberating. I just look straight ahead. I don't worry about timing, fake smiles, things in my teeth, bugars in my nose, nothing. Just walking, which is hard enough for me sometimes.

Little kids have it so easy. They can get away with incessantly staring at strangers for uncomfortable amounts of time, or hiding behind mom's leg if they don't feel like being social, or actually being so engrossed with mom's keys, they truly don't see anything in front of them. I wish I could be a little kid again. But that would mean I would have to sit in my own feces for uncomfortable amounts of time. Never mind. I'll deal with the social awkwardness.