Tired eyes. That’s all. A natural prompt; an easy – albeit unplanned – jump. Nowadays where my mind can jump to is, inevitably, changed. That I can end up with a positive conclusion, go to sleep with a positive conclusion, is something to celebrate.
What Might Have Been (Fear, Part Three)
My head, hit or jarred so badly my eyeballs changed shape.
At least I could see.
I’ve been mildly short-sighted since school. But the optician was taken aback at the new prescription. She’d never known anything similar, she said, and she didn’t know what will happen in the coming months and years.
But at least I could see.
I know I could have lived with no sight, with very poor sight. And I know that my eyesight’s recovery is something to truly value. It comes with a huge sense of relief.
But the distracting and very alive sense of fear evoked by thinking about what might have been … in some irrational way that stalks though.
I’ve written before about how much of the first few post-crash months are forgotten, or are an at best vague mess. Thus it’s hard for me now to judge how I felt then. I wasn’t consistently self-aware enough to know what state I was in. And even after months and years have gone by, I am still easily confused. What clarity of thought I generally have these days frays easily.
But aside from those realities, knowing, as fully as I can, how bad it could have been is an immense boost. The sense of fear evoked by thinking about what might have been can be beaten back, can be overwhelmed. Appreciation of how things turned out makes life richer. Relief was – and still is – a good thing to feel. A good thing.
Arguably … life is enriched by an ongoing awareness of one’s own frailty. It is easy to take things for granted and it needing an unusual threat to bring reality into focus. And by that time, all too often it’s too late. Being aware of your good fortune isn’t difficult. It needs nothing other than the right attitude.