andi oakes

I'm writing this entry in the cafeteria of our local hospital where we are now into the eighth day of our vigil with my wife's mother, and very quickly this has become our second home.

As I made my way down to the restaurant area, I indulged in one of my own little, personal, social experiments: trying to catch people's eyes.  Now just before some of the more humorous among you think that I have wilfully strayed into the ocular department and am currently playing left field in a mischievous game of “catch the glass eye” (please don't try this at home dear readers), I simply mean that I deliberately try to make eye contact with people as I pass them in the corridors.  You see, our local hospital is a rather large building, and in making the journey from the wards to the cafeteria, the brave adventurer will need to traverse some rather lengthy corridors, along which I indulge in my little experiment. Quite often you see, it will simply be myself and one other person in the corridor, walking towards each other.  It is at this point then, that I begin to direct my gaze at them. 

Well...that sounds a bit ominous doesn't it?  I should clarify that perhaps: I'm not actually staring at them the whole way along.  That would be just weird and more than a tiny bit freaky.  I mean, it would be more than a little unsettling to see some complete stranger approaching you from the opposite end of a long, and very clinical hallway, staring at you with some kind of manic grin and looking like they are just about pull a chainsaw from their back pocket.  Really...I don't do that...promise.  What I actually do is, just before we both pass each other in the corridor, I look at them and see if they will respond in kind: I wait to see if they are willing to make eye contact with me.  If and when they do...I smile, and inevitably, so do they.

Sadly however...nine times out of ten...people just don't look up.  They pass me with their eyes cast down like I didn't exist and continue hurrying on their way.

Perhaps it is just me, but I think one of the most basic needs for us as human beings, is the desire to be seen: to have our existence acknowledged...and one of the easiest ways to do that I think, is to look into someone's eyes and smile at them.  I think it's like saying “Hey! I see you! Glad you're here.”

But there is also another human trait that seems to trump this desire to be seen: the desire to hide.  We seem to be in a state of constant conflict with ourselves and thus, with everyone else.  Deep inside of us there is the part of us that longs to be open with everyone; to be seen for who we really are and accepted as such.  But there is also another part of us that is constantly and fearfully hiding the real us behind anything it can.  This part of us is ashamed, afraid, suspicious, mistrusting and, unfortunately, the more dominant part of us for most of the time.  It is somewhat easy to hide: it's what the human race seems to have been doing since the beginning.  Take Adam and Eve in the Genesis account for instance: the first thing they did after they ate the “forbidden fruit” was hide.

But hiding isn't good.  Hide long enough and you eventually begin to feel alone.  It's fun when you're a kid playing hide and seek, and you find the best hide out and just know that no-one is ever going to find you; but the satisfaction of knowing that nobody will see you, can very quickly turn into disappointment, when you realise that everyone else has given up looking and have resumed the game without you.  The greatest fun in hide and seek I think, is actually being found: because, let's face it, nobody really likes to be forgotten about.

So I will continue my experiment.  I will continue to run the risk of freaking complete strangers out because I know that, when it comes to me, I like to seen.  I like people to smile at me.  I like it when other people acknowledge that I exist and, as far as I understand it, Jesus said that I was to treat people the way I wanted to be treated.  But I will also continue, just in case the next person I meet along the way, is the very one who is desperately longing for someone, somewhere, to say “Hey! I see you!”  

So I give you fair warning...if you're walking down a long, clinical corridor in the not so distant future, and a little dude comes ambling along in the opposite direction...prepare yourself: it might just be me...and you know that I'm gonna be smiling at you.

Oh...while we're in the hospital, I might as well leave you with the urban legend about a nurse, supposedly from Indonesia direction called Picaboo, who was stationed in the ICU department...and every time she answered the telephone she would say: yup...you guessed it... “Picaboo...ICU”

True or false...it's still funny.