The big E

"Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks its true
What is the point of this story?
What information pertains?
The thought that life could be better
Is woven indelibly
Into our hearts
And our brains"

Lyric by Paul Simon

Ever had a "one-way" conversation? You know the kind that you might be present for, but the other person never really acknowledges you once they get rolling? I experienced one of those today. It was the best talk in which I've participated in a long while, and I didn't say a word. It didn't come from a paid therapist nor a priest. However, I was paying this person a lot of money.
Today I received much clearer vision, a wake up call of sorts, from a stranger.
I've worn glasses since the third grade. I don't mean the "aren't-those-cool, some-sort-of-name-brand-framed, Gucci-hip" glasses either. I'm talking big, dorky, "God, you are blind!", turn dark in the sun, geeky, birth-control glasses. REAL heavy prescription. You need a prescription to get the prescription, OK? Maybe a special driver's license, too. Anyway, when you are as blind as I am--was, you always have to consider "your glasses." Where will I put them? Because once I take them off I'd better remember where I set them down because I'll never be able to see them again if I were to forget their placement. So, I've been through countless pairs, countless replacements, a bunch of stupid "I lost my glasses again" stories. I tried doing the 'pretend I don't wear glasses' by wearing contacts. Whatever.
All in all, for 22 years, a giant pain.
But now, three days after LASIK surgery: I'm glasses-free. Very weird. I keep thinking, because I can see so well and I know that I don't have anything on my face, "I need to take my contacts out!" It's really strange. I can see, dang it!!!
It's a miracle, and the best part is that no one had to slap me on the head, shout "Hallelujah!", and then ask for a donation.
Anyway, I paid this guy in Hinsdale a lot of dough to be free of my constraints--to live a different way--to get my sight back. But today, while in for a follow-up exam, I received more than I bargained for. I got my eyes rinsed and my heart shakened.
I read all the lines on the chart, and the good doctor read seemed to be reading my mind. In remarkably succint fashion, he told me the truth about life, the reality of living, and the cost of the alternative. He read me my chart without really examining me all that closely, yet somehow he knew just what to say. In eight minutes, I got to benefit from his experience: not only as a surgeon, which gave me freedom from glasses, but I gained an immeasurable insight, from his words, into life truths that I so desperately needed to see. I'm at a turning point in my life. (It's odd how we place so much energy and time into gaining our independence, yet it's dependence that can sometimes truly set us free.)
Everybody loves the idea of something better. Something newer or different than our "now." I wanted to see better--to see independent of aid. My doctor gave me the first wish, but I needed the "one-way conversation" we had today to capture the second. Despite my instinctive desire for independence, I benfited greatly from the aid of his sage advice. I might never need glasses again (hopefully!), but I will never know it all, I can always use a re-focusing of my life-vision onto what's really important, and I will still, even though I am 20/20 again, sometimes forget where to look---to see, to really see. Sometimes the lines get blurry, and we need some guidance. Like the song reads,
"Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance. Everybody thinks its true. . .What is the point of this story? The thought that life could be better is woven indelibly into our hearts and our brains."
Being rid of my glasses may not automatically provide me with a better life, but I know what my eyes have been readjusting to for the past few months: I need to do something to provide a better life for others. I can, I've been blessed with the resources, and I believe it's expected of me to step up and give: to serve those who can't see where they are going because their day-to-day reality is blinding despair. They have no vision of something brighter, something clearer, something better. Injustice and inequality has robbed them of their right to see a better tomorrow. Now that I am seeing clearly again, what will I do with my new-found sight? Hopefully, I'll do what is required of those who possess the ability to see: lead those who, through their life's circumstances, have lost their way. They've either forgotten where to look for hope because they set theirs down so long ago, or they have never been able to see it for themselves. Some people have just learned to live with hopelessness; just as I had learned to get used to my glasses. I just assumed that that was the way it was: you can't do anything about it. You can't do anything to change the inevitable. If you don't stop to look at someone else's problem, it can never be your problem.
Thanks to Dr. Foulkes, I see things differently now.
Thank you, Doctor.




Ben Wilcox