The Eyes Have It

This morning I was repacking my seven year old's bag for school and found inside for the third day running, yesterday's water bottle full to the brim. We've been encouraging him to aim to drink two full bottles each day in service of learning to read and write, mastering basic arithmetic and of course tearing around the playground like a Red Bull-addled scud missile in Clarks trainers.

. For two days previous I'd accepted his explanation that he'd drained his bottle once, refilled it from the class tap, then forgotten to drink any more, but this morning, upon registering a hat-trick of the same rationale, I wanted to clarify that he wasn't in fact just forgetting to drink anything all day (He's got form...). Rather than initiating some kind of elaborate pH-based cross-referential experiment on the contents to determine whether they originated from our tap or the local primary school's, I conducted a far simpler test....
“Look me in the eyes buddy. Did you drink any of your water yesterday?”
The downcast peepers gave me the answer before the guilty words trickled out: “No daddy, I forgot....”
One severe beating later... of an egg!! - We had scrambled eggs for breakfast you psychos! -  and we were happily driving into school chatting about the “windows of the soul”, a concept long held throughout myriad cultures but articulated thus in 1578 by the French poet Guillaume de Salluste du Bartas (try rhyming that with something). The eye contains the only part of the brain that can be seen directly, albeit with a bright light held by an optician inspecting your optic nerve. Nevertheless, even those of us who don't work in Specsavers intuitively appreciate the profundity of these organs and the complexity of life they represent - in the case of human beings, a supremely intelligent inner life in an intricate shell capable of all kinds of sophisticated communication, both verbal and otherwise. Though cultural nuances abound, by the time we reach maturity, most of us can discern between a look from another person which says “fuck you!” and one which precedes that with “I want to...” (Those who can't are likely to get into some awkward situations / handcuffs)
Homo sapiens are social primates, but unlike most other primates (and animals in general), our pupils have evolved to be surrounded by visible whites - the sclera - and as such, we are more keenly able to detect the direction of another's gaze (“my eyes are up here perv!”) and therefore their intent or present emotional state. Our communication, both verbal and otherwise has also evolved to such a level of sophistication that eye contact becomes a subconscious dance during conversation. We give and receive cues about when to speak with our eyes, provide tonal clarification or reveal emotional states. Eye contact, held to varying degrees of intensity can be, as in the animal kingdom, a negotiation of dominance but it's also (at least in the western world) something most people associate with trustworthiness and respect. We frequently judge someone who cannot maintain eye contact as shifty or insincere, though a gaze held for too long may convince us someone is a little creepy or controlling. Getting blanked altogether can be a major dig, a denial or rebuttal of our very “self” - that soul behind those windows. It should be noted neurally diverse individuals often struggle to maintain eye contact, with no automatic correlation whatsoever to disrespect, trustworthiness or dominance.
Studies show infants prefer faces which make eye contact. Free of prejudice, malice, guile or funny ideas about Brexit, follow the children and you'll rarely go wrong... except occasionally, but that's what stair gates are for.
Whilst the direct gaze is considered respectful in the west, in other cultures, typically east Asian, the opposite can be true. Japanese children are taught to look at the neck whilst communicating. A peripheral view of the face is still present, but direct eye contact, which in Japanese culture is considered aggressive or intimidating, is avoided.

Direct eye contact can certainly be powerfully intense. When we stare into another person's (or even animal's) eyes, we become innately aware of their inner life (those windows...), the complexity of their existence – their “humanity”. This in turn draws our attention back to our own humanity, which can be humbling, confronting or electrifying. Introspection can be difficult, hence why eye contact can be unnerving, especially when we're hiding something, occasionally more grave than not hydrating properly at playtime.

Relationship therapists and intimacy experts strongly encourage couples to practise “eye gazing”, the exercise whereby you and your partner sit still, closely opposite each other (knees touching ideally for added connection) and after some slow, deep breaths to calm the nervous system and clear the mind... just have a good old stare into each other's mince pies. Set a timer if you like (though keep phones out of the mix of course) but aim to gaze into one another's soul for a full five minutes. You're allowed to blink you freaks, it's not a contest. When the time is up, take some more deep breaths (newly initiated, intensely uncomfortable participants may have spent much of the last 300 seconds barely breathing), stand up and hug it out.
Provided a long-running affair with the neighbour hasn't been revealed by a twitchy side-eye, the exercise should bring you closer together, grounding you in the reality of both your individual and shared existence and the connection you have.

Now go have sex....

...not with the neighbour!