Eye to floor contact.

Before my accident, I was pretty good at social interactions. I could hug, kiss, handshake or wink with the best of them. Yes, there would be the traditional British awkwardness from time to time; both going for the same side so cheeks were replaced with lips when kissing, or bear-hugs replaced with headbutts.

There would even be the occasional handshake/upside down handshake/fistbump awkwardness that goes with people trying to adopt unfamiliar habits, something that still happens over the tennis net from time to time. Basketball is easier as we all know that we're in America-land when we take to the court, but tennis seems a bit too British for all that buddy-bonhomie. I'm sure the appeal of tennis for many is that you stand as far away as possible from your opponent, except a brief handshake at the end.

But sporting thank-yous aside, these days my physical interactions are all different. Hugs are physically tricky, as my 'opponent' has to bow, making bear-hugs impossible, and if they go to enthusiastically at it, they are liable to tip me out of my wheelchair. Kisses are fine, but I often find myself placing a gentle hand on the person's neck or back to replace the shoulder-hold that often accompanies such a greeting or farewell.

But there is another aspect of non-verbal communication that has changed profoundly without me realising just how much until fairly recently when someone pointed it out to me: Eye contact.

Growing up in Lahndon as a geezer meant that eye contact as a young man was often highly charged. One lived in fear of being accused by some psycho of, "Staring me out?" In truth, this is not just a London thing, as anyone who is familiar with the most iconic scene in Taxi Driver will appreciate.

When it comes to conversation with people who are not looking for heads to rip off, eye-contact becomes important for establishing a positive connection. It can make people feel listened to and appreciated. It is probably the most powerful non-verbal communication tool that we have.

However, when one is in a wheelchair, eye contact become much more difficult to maintain. To start with, unless someone is sitting down, making eye contact often means looking up (which can be a real pain in the neck). But it becomes even more difficult when one is moving. As a biped, it's pretty easy to ambulate in any direction and still maintain some open postural engagement with the person you are talking to. As a wheelchair user I spend much of my time looking down, concentrating on what is in front of me lest it bring me to an abrupt halt. If I am moving along with from someone or away from them, eye contact is nigh on impossible.

It is possible that this reduction in non-verbal communication can contribute to the 'Does he take sugar' attitude somes people with disabilities experience. If I am not making eye contact with someone, I am limiting my ability to convey different inferences to what I am saying. Obviously people with impaired sight are likely to be without this communication tool, but I have had many years of using eye contact, in particular eye contact from above average height, so I am sure that my conversational habits have incorporated this over time.

So I have decided to really try and make more eye to eye contact, just to see what effect it has on me and on those I am talking to.

With this in mind, I would like to take this opportunity to apologise in advance to anyone who's feet (or pets) I run over. I can only look forward to seeing the suffering in your eyes.