As Darkness Grows

I remember when I was a little girl, I would sometimes pretend I was blind . . . probably inspired by my reading of Helen Keller or my intrigue of Mary on Little House on the Prairie. Anyway, I recall thinking, I should teach myself to remember where things were in a dark room or how I got from one place to the other so that if I ever did lose my sight, I could get around and not be afraid. Sounds like a silly little-girl's logic, but I suspect, reveals a hidden philosophy I apparently have carried through my life.

I've always depended on my ability to work at something long and hard enough that I finally conquer it, be it a task, understanding a concept or fixing a problem. Like most people, I learn by making connections, like paths through the dark, and when I finally figure out the path, the lightbulb comes on and suddenly I am freed from my blindness. That feeling of freedom, of victory, of understanding after the long pains of "try, try again," is like a carrot, a reward for getting it right. I think my self-esteem has long depended on that feeling of accomplishment, a form of self-affirmation.

I remember months of frustration in 5th grade math, trying to make the connection between decimals and fractions -- just could not get it. My teacher said I was doing well, but I knew in my heart I was like a blind person groping around in the darkness making a few good guesses here and there, but nonetheless, blind. Then suddenly, one day I was just sitting at my desk, working on some problems and !!! the lightbulb came on. The connections snapped together and finally it seemed so simple and clear. Once again, I felt secure in my ability to figure things out.

However, I feel like the older I get, those connections or "lightbulbs" have become fewer and further between. There are things I grapple with and I think, "there must be a connection here that I am not getting!" I torture myself when I just sit and think and think and think, like Pooh Bear whose brain is about as big as a pea and can hardly think of anything further than his honeypot! The flip side to this is that as I have gotten older, I have also come to accept the fact that there are a few things about life I will never grasp . . . mysteries . . . and I am happy to release my need to figure them out.

The truth is, while I have learned new skills and adapted to changes in life, I have had also lost much of the sharpness I once had. As I get older, my physical eyesight is not as strong -- I can tell. But also, when I experience fewer and fewer "lightbulb" experiences, I have this nagging fear that my brain is slowly losing its ability to "see" too. Now, the "groping through a dark room" is not as fun and challenging as it once was. I sometimes fear that the lightbulb will never come on and, indeed, I will be left in frustration . . . to maneuver based only on my memory of how the room looked when I last saw it.

"I will lead the blind by ways they have not known,

along unfamiliar paths I will guide them;

I will turn the darkness into light before them

and make the rough places smooth.

These are the things I will do;

I will not forsake them."

Is. 42:16