I was at the DMV a few weeks ago. We’d just moved back to California and I needed to get my new driver’s license. In this particular state, they give you lots of tests before allowing inferior out-of-state drivers to have licenses. It’s important to immediately recall what school buses must do at railroad tracks and how many days you have to report that you finally restored the jalopy in your driveway. They also want to make sure your eyes work as you barrel down the highway at 70 miles an hour. So, off to testing I went.
The staffer asked me to cover my right eye and read the bottom line. I rattled it off quickly and correctly. He asked me to cover my left eye and read the same line on the next chart. I pulled away and looked at my husband who was standing off the side, my mouth hanging open in shock. All I could see were fuzzy lines and shapes on all but the gigantic top line. I was surprised to discover that while my left eye still worked like a champ, my right had decided to get lazy on me. I took a stab at the row the staffer mentioned, but when I started saying numbers where clearly letters sat, he put me out of my misery. He took me to a different machine and tested both eyes together there, and I saw just well enough to get a license.
The kind optometrist I visited last week fitted me with magic glasses. One eye at a time he presented lenses that showed me just how much I hadn’t been seeing. For me, it was a slow fuzzing of the edges, an imperceptible fading of clarity. As for the kind optometrist, he was surprised the DMV had passed me at all. He was only seeing the end of the journey, where change and overuse had made one eye much less clear than the other and its user hadn’t noticed.
As I wiped the numbing drops from my eyes, I silently acknowledged we’re all witnesses to each other’s journeys, even if just in snippets or toward the end of a particular path. Even if the bigger picture isn’t immediately understood by the observer, there is so much that can be seen and learned. Clarity comes and goes. Confusion caused by stress, emotions, physical imbalance and external energy can make it difficult to notice the effect these things may be having – how energy, growth and intuition may be challenged. Those witnessing my journey along with me, even for a moment, can bring to light things I have been ignoring or can’t find neutrality enough to see myself. If I can set aside my own ego and baggage long enough to hear the wisdom they have to offer, no matter how or when it is offered, than I have an overflowing cup of truth, lessons and teachers around me all the time.
I will always trust my own intuition and inner wisdom first, but more than a few times I’ve received insight from friends and strangers alike that I knew instantly was valuable and wise.
Oh, of course, I think every time. I hadn’t seen it that way. I’m so glad I was listening.
As I genuinely thanked my optometrist for restoring my clear sight, he smiled with a hint of judgment and said, “On behalf of all your fellow drivers, I’m glad you finally came to see me.”
I laughed. It’s funny because it’s true.