Take a small moment and listen to the images that come to you when you look into his bright eyes.
Is he thinking at all?
Is he thinking about the road he has already walked, or the one still waiting for him ahead?
Maybe he noticed a shadow somewhere in the distance and is trying to decide how dangerous it is. Whether it is a beast walking on four legs, or two, carrying a knife hidden beneath its coat.
Or maybe he simply stopped to rest after a long journey and there is not a single thought left inside him. Not even about the cold air entering his lungs.
Maybe he is thinking about the little money he has left, and how to make the people around him believe there is still more. Because perhaps that is one of his fears. Not that others see him as cheap or selfish, but that the money is the only reason they still visit him. The only reason they ask about his health.
Without those few remaining coins in his pocket, what use would he be to them?
Just another mouth to feed.
Another body taking warmth from the fire and making the room colder.
Or maybe there are no thoughts at all.
Maybe even Sisyphus never thought much about the meaning of pushing the stone uphill.
These were the images that came to me.
What do they say about me?
Maybe that I instinctively read sadness and danger even in peaceful scenes. That I search for hidden motives behind human relationships. That I feel tired of social masks and the performances people build around themselves.
But maybe they also say that I rely on inward observation. Like someone who is no stranger to walking alone for long stretches of time, and who learned to observe before learning to trust. Someone who has sat in silence for so long that other people began projecting their own fears into that silence.
Or maybe there are no thoughts at all.
Maybe we simply look into another person’s eyes long enough for them to become a mirror.
And what about the images that came to you?
What do they say about you today?
(image “Contemplator” by Ivan Kramskoy)
