I woke up early this morning. It is -1°C here in the south of France. According to the weather forecast, it is going to be a sunny day. Whether the sun will be reflecting of the frosted fields in an hour, remains to be seen, it is still pitch dark outside.
I have been preoccupied with seeing, or rather not seeing, during the last few days. I have had some upsetting news from my eye surgeon, so once again I have to confront my fear of going blind.
Serendipitously, I read John 9 this morning and I thought about how our limiting beliefs, our unsubstantiated assumptions and our biased judgements can blind us to what is going on around us.
We all look at the troubled times we live in from different perspectives, we all see what we want to see, what we can afford and allow ourselves to see, and we ignore the rest. Voluntary blindness.
Still sitting in bed, I become aware that the room is gradually becoming lighter. How incredibly precious it is to be able to see well enough to notice this. I mindfully appreciate the vast range of colours that I can see. The stark contrast between black and white on the body of a cat. The dark chocolate brown of wooden beams. The splash of vibrant red on a cushion. The intricate pattern of a rug. The shining reflection in a mirror. What joy it is to be able to see!
As this thought drops into my mind, another follows shortly on its heels. I, who value my sight so highly, also blind myself voluntarily, to what I do not want to see. To what I cannot cope with. To what is too painful to contemplate. Like the law-makers in John 9, faced with the healed blind man, I deny the obvious, because I cannot accept the truth.
Do you do this too? Rarely? Sometimes? Often? All the time?
Getting rid of limiting beliefs is difficult. Many of my retreat guests have confronted and successfully eradicated their limiting beliefs while they walked the Camino de Santiago de Compostella. During this pandemic, few guests make it here to the south of France, so I am hoping to be able to offer you the possibility of attending a virtual inner pilgrimage in the very near future.
If you like this vignette of my life here in Gascony, you can escape to the south of France for a virtual visit by subscribing to my mailing list HERE.
- Virtual Write Your Story Retreat for writers and can’t-writers
- Post-pandemic: What is Your Life’s Purpose? Challenge in my Facebook Group
Savoir Vivre Vignettes Series
4 Replies to “Voluntary Blindness”
Sending you hugs, Margaretha. We do usually turn “a blind eye” to those things that we find hard. This past year, though, it’s like I couldn’t stop staring at the accident that was 2020.
I know, Jennifer, it doesn’t matter how short-sighted I am, I just couldn’t miss it!
Was very very touched by this post.. reread it several times. Admire yr strength.
Could never make it without your support, Riet. xxxM