Sunday I walked in the Wedgewood neighborhood of Seattle. Soft gray mist hung low and last night's rain had color- saturated the fall leaves, highlighted a hundred textures and freshly spritzed the season's flowers. It smelled of moss and lavender.
What a crazy beautiful city. Love the architecture, love the greens. I reveled in the beauty I saw.
The beauty I see.
Yes, I SEE.
I came to Seattle to consult with an eye specialist, to find out if there was anything else to be done to improve my vision. He gave some valuable information but also confirmed my previous diagnosis. My retina was badly torn and the extensive scar tissue was likely unavoidable. It's within my visual field. The macula was torn off, without oxygen too long and may or may not heal any further. So my visual acuity may be what it is.
But today, I realized — I see...
I see dew drenched flowers.
I have vision for the big picture, the distant vista. It's the close-up that throws me off.
I take a photo and assume something is in focus, load it on my computer and enlarge it to choose which image matches what I saw. I read of a man with such limited vision, he does this and much more just to see his children's faces. Perspective, it's all your perspective.
Mine's a clunky process but it works. And I delete a lot of photos, keeping life simpler...
Sometimes I get too close, too myopic and even my own finger gets in my way.
Nothing's in focus.
I can get too close, too introspective in my mind as well. I'll worry a thought like an old dog worries a bone. Pick at a perceived flaw and unravel myself. Fail to step back and see the bigger picture.
I came here in a search for visual acuity.
Instead I've been reminded of vision.
And I wouldn't trade one for the other.
Thanks, Seattle.
