Sometime this past June I left my only surviving pair of glasses in Miami after a visit home. During the weekend I was searching through bags, purses, medicine cabinets, suitcase pockets, old wallets, and “emergency contact purse(s)” until I gave up.
A days later I realized I only had two sets of contacts left and two days after pleas to my contact provider, I had no glasses, no contacts, and no idea how I wasn’t going to trip in the middle of the street. I thought of the cringe-worthy scenarios I envision of tripping in a cross walk during rush hour and they’d become reality. For the next four days I waited to find out.
Then, I thought to follow the path of least resistance - which really for me just meant going from one spot on my couch to one spot in my bed to one spot in the kitchen and so on and so forth because I figured that would be the safest bet.
But come Sunday I knew I’d somehow have to make actually perform work the following day, so I took the famous advice from Tim Gunn to ‘make it work’ until the week felt like an episode of Project Runway I’d won.
Five minutes out the door on Monday morning I nearly fell. I did that thing when you’re walking alone and nearly fall and make that audible op noise then look around to see if anyone A) saw you nearly fall and B) heard you make that noise. Then I realized I couldn’t see anyone even if I wanted to! Strangely enough it felt sort of freeing — not caring about what anyone thinks or does because I can’t actually see reactions to my behavior.
I squinted through the work week after making everyone laugh over the fact that I couldn’t make out their facial expressions and I gave updates on how much my contact company sucks. People were amazed I didn’t have a headache, affirmed it was great that I didn’t drive to work, expressed sincere concern for my safety when I described almost eating a brick wall after missing a step on the way to my laundry room, and everyone was much nicer than usual since I was just squinting through the day and for some reason always needed everything repeated to me.
I felt really carefree. I noticed that I internalized a great deal of the annoying situations that happen in my job. Seeing people everyday at the library who ask for rudely things, are curt, make assumptions, or don’t have factual receipts — they were all non issues because I couldn’t even see anyone to make a judgement on whether or not they were judging me. Everyone and everything in my minds eye was unproblematic.
But near the middle of the week, when my contact company said my shipment would have already arrived and hadn’t yet, my frustrations started to pile up.
I felt frustrated that I couldn’t see. Frustrated that Walgreens reading glasses weren’t available in prescription. Frustrated that I forgot my wallet at home one day because I hadn’t seen it to pick it up. Frustrated that my eyes were started to feel strained from all the squinting, that I’d left my glasses in my Miami in the first place, that I hadn’t realized I was running out of contacts. And then the frustration morphed into something else. Suddenly I was irked by the fact that these type of situations always happen to me, that work is still taxing and stressful, that I haven’t done what I said I moved back to this city for, that I see more and more friends less, that I can suddenly feel completely washed in a mix of disappointment and annoyance with my own life, that moving back home to Miami wouldn’t be too hard, and that everything I want to do feels like it’ll take too long to accomplish.
That night I just went to bed angry with myself and my life and the fact that it was me who refused carrots with dinner in Elementary school full well knowing I was in a family of glasses wearers.
Still angry with myself, I called my contact company and demanded a refund with the pride of an always correcting Auntie or a white woman with a highlighted Jon and Kate Plus 8 bob asking to speak to a manager, and after the call and eventual refund, I saw myself. Not as the white women or an aunt, but — and I know this is sooooooo corny, but I saw some things about my life that I never would’ve seen with my contacts or glasses on.
Like the fact that I don’t ask for help at all when I need it the most. That I don’t take time with myself because something or someone else is always my priority. That I should’ve written this essay or that essay or some article weeks ago but I procrastinated or told myself no one would care anyway and when I can’t even see my laptop to type it out, I realize I might just be too late.
No glasses, contacts, or clear sight forced me to slow down. Forced me to realize the solution to ‘making it work’, isn’t running around to make my life ideal or picturesque but it’s noticing the tools and quasi answers already in front of me.
I was walking around seeing absolutely nothing clearly and felt physically what I’d been experiencing emotionally and spiritually. Existential questions like, what’s next, is this the right person, is this the right job, is this the right plan, was this the best choice, made a quick turn into, is this the right stop, the right turn, the right door, the right building? And the bigger questions that I couldn’t possibly answer faded into my then blurry reality and I focused on the small day-to-day stuff while wondering why I didn’t just do that before.
No glasses, contacts, or clear sight forced me to slow down. Forced me to realize the solution to making it work isn’t running around to make my life ideal and picturesque but it’s noticing the tools and quasi answers already in front of me.
I was fine before my contacts arrived: no falls in the middle of traffic, no more stair way mishaps, no more angry phone calls with customer service. I even jokingly said to a few people that I might miss the blurry sight life for its simplicity.
Still, I jumped at the opportunity to put in my contacts to take everything in that I’d missed and trying to keep in mind the things I’d gained through my week of blurred sight.
