Bifocals

Things have started getting pretty blurry. It happened slowly, so I didn't really even notice. Then one day, after cussing out my contacts for not working, it occurred to me that my vision just might have changed over the last...has it really been 5 years since my last eye exam???

I sat in the chair while the eye doctor prepared to check my vision, and without my contacts in I couldn't even read the lowest line of letters projected onto the wall in front of me. I'd been living my life with blurry vision for YEARS without even noticing. Or rather, without paying any attention.

As the doctor flipped through the levels of correction and answered "Better or worse?" over and over again, things began to get clearer. I could again see the clean edges of the letters in front of me. I could identify all the letters on the smallest of lines.

When he was finished, the doctor rolled his chair to his desk and began typing notes into his computer. Then he turned to me and said, "Well, you need bifocals."

I must have had a shocked look on my face, because he quickly added, "It usually happens around 40. You only need a very low magnification. Look for +1.00 reading glasses to use when you're wearing your contacts. You can get them at any drug store these days."

As I ordered my new frames and lenses, the salesman asked if I'd like "progressives" or traditional lenses with the line. "No line, please. I'd like to at least pretend I don't need bifocals."

He gave me an obligatory chuckle and wrote up my order. I obviously wasn't the first one to say such a thing.

A week later, wearing my new progressive (ha!) glasses, things are a little wobbly. I'm adjusting to a visual field that changes magnification with the movement of my eyes. I almost fell down the stairs the other day, because my depth perception was a bit off as I looked down through the "reading" portion of my lenses.

If I forget I'm wearing them and tip my head up as I'm looking toward the distance, things become blurry and distorted and my head begins to hurt. But if I tip my head down and gaze through the tops of the lenses, things become clear again, better defined. I can't help wondering if getting these progressive lenses is a reminder that there are different ways to look at the world. Maybe they're reteaching me that what we see in front of us varies depending on what angle we use to look at it.

Maybe wearing bifocals isn't such a bad thing after all. Maybe it's just the vision adjustment I needed to start seeing things clearly again.

Starbucks Kindness

Coffee by Cheryl Foong is licensed under CC BY 2.0

This morning, I dropped my oldest at school and headed to the nearby Starbucks, where I’ve started setting up my mobile office for a couple of hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I got in line and studied the menu, deciding on a Chai Latte and waiting my turn. 

I listened to the young woman in front of me order an herbal tea. “Wait, do you guys have coffee? Just regular coffee?” she asked. Her clothing was dirty and she was wearing too many layers for even this cool morning.

The barista looked up from the register with a small smile and said, “Yeah, we have coffee.”

“Okay, can you make it sweet?” She mirrored his smile and I saw how pretty she was. Maybe 20 years old, she clutched a plastic bag with what I assumed were her only possessions. Or maybe simply the most important ones.

“Sure, hot or iced?” he asked.

“No ice, just regular hot coffee. Sweet.”

The barista grabbed a cup and began marking it with her order. The older woman standing in front of her smiled and waited to pay, and I realized she was planning to buy this young woman’s drink. Once the older woman’s order was rung up, she said, “Oh, I'm getting hers, too.”

The barista waved his hand and said, “Oh no, we’ve got it. Thank you for your kindness.”

And that was it. The generosity of one woman became a gift from Starbucks instead.

So today, when I woke up too late and had to rush through our morning routine, when I feel a bit overwhelmed and under-motivated, suddenly I am warmed by a simple act of giving.

I am reminded to be kind. Do good. Love others, even in their mess, even in the smallest of ways. It will always matter. And the rest—the hurt, the overwhelm, the craziness and difficulty—will begin to feel a little…less.