Zero Visibility

Awake at 6 a.m., and trudging back to the bedroom from a bathroom trip, I looked out the front window and couldn't see a thing. And this was not because of night darkness, but due to a thick, omnipresent fog. On most days, we see Windham high peak out our window. On the overcast days the mountain is obscured. But, between our house and that distant mountain there is always plenty of natural beauty to take in - the open field and pond in front, woods on either side, many trees and hills in the nearer distances. But, this morning it was zero visiblity out that window. Just a foggy, cloudy dream. As the morning progresses, the fog is gradually disappearing and the backdrop is incrementally revealed.

Fortunately I don't have to drive anywhere. There is something slightly scary but kind of thrilling about not being able to see anything. It creates a climate conducive to introspection; it forces the question. It also ignites the imagination. Just what is out there exactly? Thoughts of Sherlock Holmes in London or the Legend of Sleepy Hollow surface. This situation also de-centers one's sense of sight. Awareness of sounds and smells can deepen. But, it also cuts right to the heart too. It awakens the intuitive loving Self.

During the last few years of my brother's life, he had become legally blind. His condition was that some days were better than others in terms of what he was actually able to see. I know that not being able to see his children play sports (his deepest passion) was an incredible disappointment. But, I also believe that something deepened in him too, as he lost his sight. He had to connect with people in other ways.

Can blindness, paradoxically, enhance clarity? Probably so. Of course, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Interestingly, yesterday I engaged in a conscious computer fast, i.e. no internet. It felt like this morning that I had done something kind to myself by refraining from mindless searching and intensive visual stimulation. I feel more free to take in some new visuals...As the fog clears, I can see the faint yellows and reds of the early fall leaves making themselves known.