Inner vision takes such priority in my life that I willingly sacrifice outer vision for it. Or I would. Who can say why my eyesight deteriorated so much between my last two eye exams? Too much time at the computer? My optometrist was surprised and concerned when he took measurements a few weeks ago. “You’re borderline for driving now,” he said, “even with your glasses on.” “Oh! Is it okay for me to drive home?” I asked. He sort of winced.
Ever since I got these new, high-power glasses, I feel strongly ambivalent. First, I’m grateful that technology vastly improves eyesight and daily life. Second, I’m reluctant to be seen in public. Some glasses give an older woman a friendly-granny look. Others make that same person look stern and aloof. That’s what these do. …Oh, well.
My daily walks now have extra variety.
I keep testing my enjoyment of detailed vs. blurry vision. Each mode has special advantages. I was in blurry-mode the other morning when I noticed something strikingly pink against a background of green. Putting my eyeglasses on, I beheld a gorgeous cluster of surprise-lily blossoms. Later on, a large blue-and-black butterfly appeared. It repeatedly landed in the middle of the road and seemed not at all disturbed to be investigated and photographed.
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How lovely the world is—detailed or blurry.
And how pervasive that loveliness is, whether the beholder is freely roaming country roads or imprisoned by any confinement. Beauty is always present, always gracing the scene. A further grouping of surprise lilies, some inside and some outside a fence, dramatized this perfectly.
* * *
As a lily by the roadside,
as a butterfly on dung,
shows up everywhere
for each and every one.
* * *
Color is beauty.
Geometry is beauty.
Aliveness is beauty.
And appreciation of beauty may be loveliest of all.
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All by Jo Lightfoot