When I had my eye surgery I received very specific instructions from my doctor-
“You have to keep your eyes looking forward at the light in front of you. When the blade cuts you, there will be a moment where you can’t see anything. Keep looking forward anyway. You have to keep looking forward or we will cut the wrong part of your eye.”
I remember praying my little heart out. When the whole world went dark, I resisted the urge to look around me and find another light. I kept looking at the dark void where the light had been, choosing to believe that light would be there again when the procedure was finished.
This week I was on an airplane, and there was a moment where we flew through a cloud. Suddenly everything was a haze. But we went forward anyway. It occurred to me that pilots never try to navigate around the clouds, because they already know which direction they are going. The pilot could always course correct later if he needed.
And let me tell you, that stuck with me.
Lately I feel like I’m going in blind. I’m being cut open. I’m in a haze. I feel darkness where I once felt light. Sometimes I panic and want to turn elsewhere. I tell myself that maybe if I focus on someone else I can get out of this place? Until I realize that would mean going backwards.
So here I am, eyes forward even though I have no way of knowing what’s ahead. Because the only way out of this pain is through it.
“You have to keep your eyes looking forward at the light in front of you. When the blade cuts you, there will be a moment where you can’t see anything. Keep looking forward anyway. You have to keep looking forward or we will cut the wrong part of your eye.”
I remember praying my little heart out. When the whole world went dark, I resisted the urge to look around me and find another light. I kept looking at the dark void where the light had been, choosing to believe that light would be there again when the procedure was finished.
This week I was on an airplane, and there was a moment where we flew through a cloud. Suddenly everything was a haze. But we went forward anyway. It occurred to me that pilots never try to navigate around the clouds, because they already know which direction they are going. The pilot could always course correct later if he needed.
And let me tell you, that stuck with me.
Lately I feel like I’m going in blind. I’m being cut open. I’m in a haze. I feel darkness where I once felt light. Sometimes I panic and want to turn elsewhere. I tell myself that maybe if I focus on someone else I can get out of this place? Until I realize that would mean going backwards.
So here I am, eyes forward even though I have no way of knowing what’s ahead. Because the only way out of this pain is through it.
