Being Willing to See

Do you feel you are willing to see what is going on in the world? If you had asked me this question last month, I would have said, “Yes, absolutely, of course I am.” I would have felt this was true. But if you asked me that question today, I would have to say, “Apparently not!”

​A few weeks ago, I was presented with information that I did not want to know. I didn’t want the world to be this way. In that moment, it hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks, it came to me totally out of left field, so to speak and threw me into outer orbit.  I didn’t even feel like I had the opportunity to decide how to respond or to react. My body took over and I went into shock and basically shut down. I was incapable of discussion or perhaps I was just refusing to discuss the matter that had been revealed, although to me it felt out of my control.

 A day or so later, I lost my glasses. Now this was a very surprising experience in itself. I have worn glasses since grade 5, so I was maybe 10 years old when I first got glasses. I have never lost a pair of glasses in my life. It is nearly impossible to lose my glasses because I wear them all the time. At this stage of life, I need my glasses for both long distance and reading. In other words, I need my glasses on all the time. I have prescription sunglasses, so the only time I take my glasses off is to swap from regular, clear lens to sunglasses. One comes off the face and into the case and the other one goes on my face. 
 
I had been to a movie theatre late in the afternoon and upon discovering that my glasses were missing, I reasoned that I must have left them in the ladies room at the theatre. I could, sort of, remember changing into my sunglasses there before going out into the bright sunlight. But after returning to the theatre and speaking with staff there, I discovered my glasses weren’t there even if that was the place I had left them. 
 
Losing my glasses, in and of itself, was not the end of the world as I carry a spare pair of glasses with me when travelling. But, it was very upsetting all the same because the glasses were new-ish (and I really liked them) and anyone who wears glasses is well aware of the cost! But apart from all of that, I also found it upsetting to think that I had been so distracted, that I had not been present in my own life to such an extent that I lost my glasses. It kept me awake most of the night and the bit of sleep I got was fitful, full of bad dreams.
 
The next day I tried to go about the scheduled activities but found myself feeling despondent, aggravated by losing my glasses but mostly aware that I was having an inward battle with how I wanted the world to be vs how it is in reality. My inability to deal with it only added weight to the situation. It seemed so obvious what was going on. The ‘reading’ on losing my glasses was that I didn’t want to see, I wasn’t willing to see things the way they are. I didn’t need anyone to point this out to me. It was crystal clear.
 
The following day, we arrived home just before dark and I approached the back door of the house but had to wait for someone else to finish locking up the car and come unlock the back door of the house. While I was standing there, taking in the green of the veggie garden and the autumn leaves that had fallen to the ground, I saw something glint in the final rays of the sun. My thought was, “Oh, gosh I’m so upset about my glasses that I hallucinated seeing them.” But on second glance, I discovered it was my glasses, sitting on a little table in the back garden, in a puddle of rain. 
 
How the glasses could have possibly gotten there I will never know. It bends my mind even trying to think about it. I just have to accept that because I wasn’t willing to see, I lost my glasses in order to add enough tension to the situation to pop the traumatic stress – so that I could once again begin to see, well, at least be willing to start the process of seeing clearly. 
 
When I found my glasses, the matter at hand started to realign. Everything wasn’t resolved by finding my glasses but something shifted in that moment and at least I knew I wouldn’t remain shut down and that eventually I would be able to see clearly again. 
 
Some will laugh and say it was just a coincidence or accuse me of thinking too much, suggesting that I create stories out of everyday experiences that have no meaning. Maybe. But to me it feels like an interactive universe that is always supporting me to evolve. 
 
 
 

Return to Blogs