#beingblind

Today, I went to work without my eyes. I forgot to put my contacts in, and I suppose I didn’t notice that the world looked any different because my morning routine only consists of brief glances in a small handheld mirror. By the time I realized, I was already walking downstairs to the tunnel.

I ignored the consequences on poor sight once I had to actually work (I assume I’d just have to face the dread of being a drone with my face literally inches from my screen for six, maybe seven hours). I took up space in a tiny radius among many others on a packed train. As I looked around, I realized everyone around me looked more…beautiful. Their features were softened, blemishes gone, and overall more cohesive as a collective human race. It was comforting. 

Then when I walked through the streets, I felt like what once was an overstimulating city with ads and lights everywhere became more of a distance texture. Everything was still there, but just faded. I never felt directionless. In fact, I became more used to navigating with intuition (flow of people and traffic) rather than direction (signs). The farther away something physically was, the farther away it was in relation to me. Distant objects became less important. I became more present. Since I could still see close-up objects well, it became a special, privileged treat. Allowing something, or even someone, in my personal space was dear and had focus (literally).