February 10, 2008

TO live in our world

Is it really bad to be blind? Can you really not see what is happening around you?

When asked to contribute to this blog, I found myself wondering if maybe I really could contribute to the idea the originator of the blog had in mind, and all I could think was okay, I'd give it a try. But, for anyone to say that our world is unseen but not unfelt really is not looking at the whole picture closely.

Unseen but not unfelt. What does that mean to me?

To me, seeing is living! Certainly having sight brings about the physical aspect of seeing. But, those of us who are blind, picture so much in our minds, to say we don't see is wrong.
When I dream, I tend to hear, feel and imagine I'm right there. I don't need to see to experience my dreams.

When I climb a sand dune, I feel the strength building up in my legs. I feel the sun beating down on me. I hear the birds in the trees close to the sides of the dune. I smell the damp air. I can picture all of that in my mind, just from those experiences I've had. Thus, in my own way, I can see.

When I'm on Lake Michigan or the ocean in a boat, I can feel the boat swaying in the waves. If it's a motorboat, I can smell the fuel. (Not always a pleasant odor, I might add. I can feel the spray in my face. I can hear seagulls over the roar of the motor. If it's a sailboat, I can listen to the quiet and feel the sun, even feel what way the wind is coming from.

I remember one sunny day, my father and I were sailing from South Manitou Island to Leland onLake Michigan, a trip that is seventteen miles long. We got becalmed and after two hours of hearing the stays clanging against the mast, my father mumbled and cursed and said we were turning around. I told him to wait a second. He then started to curse at me. That's when the wind took hold of our sails.

When I'm in a blizzard, I can hear the wind. I can feel the snow if I'm outside. If I'm inside and it's quiet, I can hear it falling. I can picture that experience in my mind.

When it's a beautiful summer day, it doesn't matter what I'm doing. I can still experience it in all its beauty. I can picture such days in my mind.

I remember telling one friend of mine that I didn't envy him his sight on his blog, as he had written about the journey of losing his sight and what it means. I don't. I don't envy anyone their physical vision, because I know God gave it to them. But, try to realize, while not physical, he did give me vision of another kind. So, to me, I can still see. It's just a different experience from most of you.
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6 comments:

Mary Stebbins Taitt said...

Wonderful and very well said and felt. Beautifully described!

Akelamalu said...

You brought tears to my eyes and a swell in my heart - I am missing so much for all I can see. Thankyou. x

ImperfectNerd said...

Yes, Bea, perhaps the title to this blog is just a bit controversial, so I should take a brief moment to explain myself. I know you well, Bea, and I know that you can see as good or better than I, and your feelings run deeper than most people's. But most seeing people can't conceive of this possibility. They believe, as I once did, that being without sight is a major deprivation, not an opportunity. What I saw in this blog was a chance to try to set them straight, and that is why I invited you to help do that. And I thank you very much.

Healing Song said...

Thanks, Mike. Now, I understnad what it is you're trying to convey here and I'll be happy to post more, as I see fit.

Healing Song said...

Oops! I meant understand! Sometimes, I think faster than I can type! lol.

ImperfectNerd said...

I can think faster than I type, too, but then, I would have to be severely damaged not to. My typing is so atrociously slow and labored it is near to a criminal offense against keyboards everywhere. And yet I still go on writing. And I don't think of that little problem as a handicap, either, because it gives me much pleasure and fulfillment in the end.