Friday, February 15, 2008

Out of Focus

I am blind. Without my glasses or contacts, things more than four inches away get blurry. Those who know me best get a kick out of the fact that when I go sans prescriptive eyewear, my hearing sort of goes out of focus as well (I think it has something to do with how much I rely on body language and facial expression).

While at the eye doctor yesterday for my yearly visit, as I chose between "1 or 2, 3 or read the smallest row you can see," I was thinking about near sightedness and life. There was a time in my life I had my future mapped out years in advance. In high school it was one of those illustrious letters your young women leaders make you write to yourself ("go on a mission, then finish college, marry at 25"--the same list we've all made). In college, I could tell you a fairly specific list of which classes I'd be taking three years from that moment. I knew exactly what life looked like through December 2005: Graduation. That general estimate of what was around the bend was comforting to me. It made me feel safe, like the daily to do lists I wrote each day. The future felt under control, therefore I felt in control. As time passed, I had these baby step accomplishments--things I could check off and then tangibly see that I was closer to my destination.

Cue January 2006. In a matter of two weeks, my neatly wrapped up plans loosened, unraveled a bit, then disintegrated completely. And since then I can only see four inches ahead of me without things getting blurry. My goals are more of these hazy ideas of what I think I might like to do, but my heart won't break if I don't accomplish each on my list. (After all, one can live a full and happy life even if one never makes it to India). Problem is, I'm still trying to adjust to this lifestyle where goals are much blurrier things. It is a one-day-at-a-time kind of lifestyle and, frankly, I struggle with it.

Anyway, I suppose this is all a bit of a rambling blog post without a conclusion. I wish I were more okay with the whole out of focus business, but I'm not. I simply cannot feed you some line about "the beauty in the surprise of it all" and how "we all receive moments of clarity, yadda, yadda, yadda." Clarity-schmarity! I feel lost. AND I hate surprises! There, I said it. Surprises leave you with a bad hair day in your least favorite fat shirt on the one day you want to look your best. Truth is, I wish I had a clearer vision of where this Rookie Boat was sailing. I wish there were more chances to put on a nice pair of prescriptive life glasses that make things clear, my own little Liahona, if you will. I want to know that I'm moving in a forward direction. I want to see in clarity my path before me rather than this out of focus nonsense life often feels like.

So, there you have it. Tell me if you are feeling me, people! Oh, and talk loudly, I can't hear well without my glasses on.


Alice said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Alice said...

Sorry delete was mine. I hate really stupid typos! :)

AMEN sister! I totally get this, and I say ditto ditto ditto. I find comfort in plans, goals, and the way my life felt oh so mapped out in the past. I knew there was a cliff at the end of my college road, but I even built a bridge for a while by going to graduate school ;).

But newsflash Alice...that was 3 years ago!

Why can't it at least feel safe again?

By the way, I can't wait to see your new specs.

Kittymama said...

I totally understand. I had my life planned out for as long as I can remember, and it was comforting to know that I could look beyond three or five years into the future and know where I'd be (med school, residency training, clinical fellowship). Then life threw me a curved ball and my well-laid plans went awry. It was hard to deal with things one issue at a time, but I knew then that if I started looking too forward, I'd get horribly lost. So I closed my eyes and relied on my other senses to guide me. That was 14 years ago. I no longer have a timetable for my life, but these days, I don't panic (as much). One week at a time is good enough for me.

Bottom line: sometimes, you can see clearly without the glasses. Keep the faith, my friend.

P.S. Am severely myopic too. And I like to sleep with my glasses on because I can't see my dreams without them. :-)