I feel decidedly middle-aged. Not because of my chronological age. Not because of my desire to go to bed early. Not because of my disdain of loud music… Or any other middle-age stereotype I can think of! I feel it because my new glasses have varifocal lenses. I need help with close up work as well as my usual long distance needs.
In all seriousness I am not bothered in the slightest about the need for varifocals- but it has been an interesting process trying to get used to them. I’ve written about the need to lift my head and look up before. I wish I knew how to put a link to that previous post here, but I haven’t worked it out yet!
In that post I talked about how I always wondered how my therapist knew what time to end the session- it took me years to realise that there was actually a clock on the wall above my chair. I had never noticed, as I walked into the room with my head bowed down.
Since writing that post I’ve thought of other examples. I used to have a dog. I loved my dog- but I admit he was quite high maintenance. He had the most unrestful habit of barking at the tele when an animal appeared on screen. One particular evening while he was on my lap, he jumped up and attacked the tele. Unfortunately I was holding a cup of tea and as he sprung up the tea covered me. It was literally months before I realised that not only had the tea covered me and the sofa- it also sprayed the entire wall behind me. I never noticed! Can you believe it.
I hope I’ve got a bit better. But this week, I’ve realised again just how much I look down. And I know this because it is really fuzzy now with the new lenses! My natural disposition is to look down. And I want to look up. So with intention, and some help from my varifocals I keep looking up. Not just at the clouds or the sky- but in my everyday activities. As I walk from the stairs to the kitchen- I need to look forward- if not up… A physical manifestation of a desire to widen my perspective and environment…
Ironically, as I get older- I am getting more in touch with my child. Quite exciting sometimes.
Thanks for listening.