“Look at everything as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time.”
~ Betty Smith
For some reason, I find this hard to do in winter. It’s almost as though my eyes go numb after a while.
Is it the cold, grey light that causes that? Or perhaps it’s the cold that makes me tuck my chin down into my coat collar, thus angling my eyes so they peer down at my feet?
Whatever the reason, I seem to lose my ability to really see the landscape around me. It even feels blurred when I consider it now, after dark, via the mind’s eye. And I find myself incapable of seeing, say, the desk lamp with the same level of wonder and awe reserved for trees and birds and plants and sky.
And this tamped-down sense I have, that the world is somehow veiled from my eyes, only makes me more anxious for spring. I was talking to a friend about it today, and she said, gently, that I might want to calm down because most people reserve this level of longing for spring for late February.
I’m not exactly living my life in the now, either, if all I can think of is the world as it will be in a few months. I mean that I can literally walk in the garden and within my mind’s eye overlay the bare, leaf-blanketed earth with visions of what might be, given some time and effort.
Maybe that’s why my eyes don’t seem to be working so well. I’m retreating into the mind’s eye much more often these days. It’s more of a subtle rejection of what is, a slow-simmering “no” to the season and the cold.
There is beauty here, and now. I just have to stop defining in advance what qualifies as Beauty and accept whatever unfolds before me. Or at least keep my eyes open and focused on something other than my feet.
How is your sight faring this season?