The Eyes as Mirrors of the Soul: A Jungian Perspective

“The eyes are a window to your soul.” Shakespeare supposedly said it. But whoever came up with it touched something Jungian before Jung existed.

When you look into someone’s eyes—really look—you’re not just seeing them. You’re seeing through them. Into the psyche. Into something vast and deep and usually hidden behind the business of everyday interaction.

Hold someone’s gaze a beat too long and watch what happens. They’ll joke, “What are you looking at?” or “Leave me alone, weirdo.” We’re not comfortable being seen that deeply. There’s a reason for that. When someone truly sees you, they see the parts you’ve been hiding too.

But here’s what struck me: eyes aren’t just windows. They’re mirrors. In the briefest exchange of glances—a look across a room, a passing moment with a stranger—you see not only the other person but yourself reflected back. Your own presence in them. Your own existence confirmed by their gaze.

That’s not small. That’s the foundation of something.

When I look into your eyes, I see my own aspirations in your dreams. My own anxieties in your fears. My own heart in your love. It’s not that we’re the same. It’s that we’re made of the same stuff. The collective unconscious isn’t abstract when you’re looking someone in the eye. It’s right there.

And once you see that? Forgiveness becomes less of a decision and more of an inevitability. How can I hold something against you when I see myself in you? How can I not want for you what I want for myself?

“Love your neighbor as yourself” isn’t just a moral instruction. From a psychological standpoint, it’s a statement of fact. Your neighbor is yourself, in a meaningful sense. The same patterns, the same fears, the same divine spark—however you want to define that.

Next time you catch someone’s eye, even briefly, notice what happens. Not in your head. In your chest. There’s a recognition there that goes deeper than thought.

We keep forgetting this. And we keep being reminded.