If the eyes are the windows to the soul, then the face is the emotional barometer.

Me, Just Now

I remember first going out in public–to the grocery store, I think–and finding myself in a sea of covered faces. Floating eyes, really. The COVID-19 pandemic was newer and scarier then, and everything felt uncertain. But still, we just tried to carry on with the things we would have normally done–including going to the store. (Remember, when toilet paper had its moment.)

It was unsettling. I was taken aback. It made me sad. And angry. That it had come to this. For all the reasons. It took some time to understand what I was feeling. As I’ve written before, it was grief.

Little did I know as I worked to process my grief over the loss of life and temporary freedom and of a future we felt pretty uncertain about, what I was also grieving was the loss of all the cues that come from seeing someone’s entire face. At least, in person. At Accenture, using video during our Microsoft Teams calls is pretty commonplace. But, nothing replaces honest-to-goodness in-person interactions.

When my neighbor Matt stopped by the other day to drop off a package he’d picked up for me while I was out of town for Memorial Day weekend, we talked and caught up a bit. It had been a while since our most recent socially distant hangout. (I have amazing neighbors who have become even more amazing friends.) Neither of us was wearing a mask (of course, standing far enough apart). And it was just so nice to have a regular conversation and see his entire face while we talked, cut up, and laughed.

It felt…well, normal–which isn’t something you come by all too frequently these days. I call what we’re living through right now, the “now normal” (not the “new normal”) because normal is a moving target on its best day. And I’m confident our lives will return to something much more similar to what they used to look like than they do now.

When I was walking my dog the other day, I had my gaiter pulled up and wore sunglasses, so basically my entire face was obscured. Yet, I noticed while I walked I was still smiling at passers-by. I thought, should I let them know “hey, I’m smiling at you” as I passed them? Maybe a gaiter with a smile on it? Maybe a t-shirt?

I know it won’t be the norm for the time being to see most people’s faces in public–maybe a long while–but it’s nice to see the (entire) faces of friends and family when possible. So you can read their barometer and understand how they are feeling. One look at someone you know, and you can tell what’s going on with them.

You know all their looks. And they know all of yours. Faces fill in subtle context when it’s needed. Now more than ever, I think we’re all looking for context because we’re in unchartered waters. Finding familiar context is like a ship seeing a lighthouse on the shore, telling you where you are and helping you navigate safely.

I look forward to a time when I can pass strangers on the street once again, and smile whether they look at me or not. It just feels good.