It’s Thursday night, and the wind is calm. The mourning doves have settled in for another winter’s night, and the wind is blowing easy out of the south west. It’s been a fairly mild winter thus far, and believe it or not, I’m looking forward to mud season. I guess in my getting older age, the winter doesn’t hold any magic for me anymore.
Life out here on the ridge doesn’t change much for me. One day sort of blends into the next, and before you know it, here comes another day, barreling around the corner at a rate of speed that would make Steve McQueen’s knuckles turn white.
Over the past few years, I’ve experienced a few white knuckle moments brought on by my blindness. I suppose you could chock it up to life in general. I’ve been writing about it, talking about it, feeling it, hating it, growing from it and accepting it, or trying my best to accept it. I’ve written the word, “I”, often, and I suppose it’s for good reason. I’m sure I’ve bored a lot of you with my recollections, my inhibitions, my beliefs and my outlook, but it’s all I have. It’s all any of us have, and it’s what I have chosen to do.
I’ve had a lot of support, a lot of guidance, been faced with a ton of anxiety and have been rapidly knocked back a few steps, sometimes by the words of others. One way to look at it is that it’s all happening for a reason and through it all, the good, the bad, the ugly, the fascinating and the truth, I’m right here, writing another blog post.
Following one of my recent posts, I received the comment suggesting that I should just get over it. Nothing has ever hit home quite like these three little words did. I have pondered on them more than I care to, but I have also dug in deep to their meaning.
I’m a creative writer by nature, and through my descriptive phrase, I have settled in, more than not, with an ongoing theme of personal survival. I guess I named this blog correctly back in 2011. Such a long time ago, but such a quick journey. I don’t hold praise to the fact that I do feel sorry for myself at times, but I also don’t like the fact that while doing so, I have pulled a lot of people into my situational pity. It all happens so fast though, and before I know it, I’m wondering what the hell I’m doing.
I jokingly tell people that I’m the first blind person I have ever met. It’s true. I never noticed, or had the opportunity to encounter a blind person before 2010, and I’m sorry to say that I wish I never had, but oh, how I’m glad I did. Boy, is that a tug of war statement or what.
I’ve seen so many different things since my sight loss. I’ve met some of the most amazing people on the face of the earth, one of whom I just happen to live with. I’ve been surrounded by love, affection, hope, despair, inspiration and an element of mentoring that I would have never known if not for becoming blind.
I’ll just say that with all I have been through, there’s still much more to my existence. There’s more than meets the eye, and there’s more that I need to learn, to live and to love.
People tell me that I am a form of inspiration. They tell me of how far I’ve come, how much I’ve grown and how confident I look.
Boy if you only knew how much I don’t know, how much I am frightened of, how much I wish things could have been different, but they’re not.
I am grateful though. I’m grateful for the lessons I have learned, the harsh teachings I have been afforded, for those are the most useful. I’m thankful for my God, for my family, for those who throw three little words at me, and for this inner strength that keeps me moving forward. All of these things make up who I am, who I have become, but more importantly, who I might become.
Get over it. It’s a simple phrase that holds so many truths. It’s a three word phrase that has spun me around and caused me to take a deeper look at my own perceptions. Yes, I tend to fall back into that little boyish way of thinking from time to time, and my wife is usually the bearer of my own selfishness, but as long as I can realize it and learn from it, hopefully I can package it up and mail it back to where it belongs.
My mailbox is getting a little full, so I’d better get to work.
Thanks for stopping by, and thanks for listening to the ramblings of a blind billy goat, on a ridge, on a road, on a journey that still awaits me.
Bye for now.