Seeing with no eyes

It is said that altering one's viewpoint is not about journeying to faraway places, but about seeing with new eyes. In the case of my uncle, it is about seeing with no eyes.

He is blind. He went blind at about age 16-- just woke up and couldn't see. He went to the Mayo Clinic, where he stayed for 7 months, but they just couldn't find anything wrong with him so they eventually gave up. Mind you, this was the 1940s, so medicine wasn't quite so advanced. Still, to go blind when most kids dream of embarking on their life's journey... and not to know why. [They figured it out a couple decades later-- a rare viral infection].

But far from beating him down, blindness made my uncle all the more determined, and changed him in far-reaching ways. Immediately he set about learning Braille. He learned how to interact socially as a blind person. He got comfortable walking on his own.

In high school, he dreamed of getting a PhD in physics, but it became clear that that would not be possible. No matter. He changed his plan and got a PhD in psychology instead. He did psychotherapy, relishing the "emergency" cases like suicidal people. Like many blind people, he can hear emotion and detect nuances that seeing people miss.

He turned down several chances to marry before getting his PhD because he wanted to attract the kind of woman who would value his independence. As soon as he got the degree, he asked his friends if they knew any smart women. He married my aunt and they had a daughter, who grew up to be a philosopher and lawyer.

Now he has a comfortable retirement. He can live on his own, and indeed encourages my aunt to travel about 40 days a year so he can be on his own. His life philosophy is so refreshing and simple: He lives every day such that if he died that day, he would have no regrets. He is one of the happiest people I know, because he had a life plan and fulfilled it (PhD, good family, rewarding career, financially stable retirement). It wasn't easy, but he put all his energy into it and got vast rewards for that effort.

I feel energized talking to him. He loves life, loves people, and always takes a fresh and positive perspective. He sees his job as solving problems. People have problems, he figures out how to help them solve them.

Now he has rheumatoid arthritis and is a bit slowed. No matter. He takes a tiny dose of medication but mostly uses his mind to control his body. It's possible, you know-- he has 5 gold crowns that he got put in without anaesthetic. It just takes mental effort. He is a firm believer in mind over matter.

But he is thinking about the end. Nothing to fear. He just wants to go quietly. Thus, he has planned for his suicide should it become necessary. He's quite open about it, and it doesn't bother me. I think it's a fine way to go, perfectly logical in some cases. That's what he wants, and he does tend to make his plans happen. Perhaps he'll be lucky and die in his sleep from heart failure, like his mother (shortly after she announced that she was planning to die soon). But he's taken too good care of his health! :-) That's the downside of a good diet and a sound mind.

His wisdom overflows and touches me every time I see him. What a wonderful life. He is always smiling and can't be defeated by anything, even death (for a good death is the natural result of a good life. They are not separate). That's the Way to Be.

Ice Reflections

I am in Portland today, where it is all about ice. A bout of freezing rain has enveloped the western portion of the state, as the temperature hovers in that vague region around 32 degrees. Like some kind of meteorological thin-film deposition, a sheen of ice coats every surface. Walking on the driveway seemed too precarious, so I opted for the egg-sized stones beside it. But they didn't shift under my feet as usual! Iced together into a solid mass, they actually offered less purchase than the flat driveway simply because my feet had less surface area to contact! The surest footing was on the grass, pleasantly crunchy like frozen green beans straight out of the package. Some roads have been sanded, but many remain an adventure in friction-free travel.

Apropos of the day, Portland is hosting the US Figure Skating Championships this week. We watched the men this afternoon, behaving far more gracefully on the ice than I did.

The world seems encased, limited by this hard surface, this glass skin. Although chemically the same as snow, this ice is a whole different beast. Melting snow can be a sad sight, a diminishing of soft fluffiness and a dirtying of freshness. But when this ice melts, it will bring freedom.

Potty Parity

Several states are working on "potty parity" laws that would reapportion restroom space at large public buildings (concert halls, stadia, etc) such that there is more for women than for men. This is to even out the waiting time-- ever notice that the women's room has a long line at intermission while the men breeze in and out? It's because women not only take longer, but you can't pack them densely like you can at the men's urinals.

I have no idea how this legislation is proceeding. But I did notice today that men will opt for their own parity too. At the gym, there is a place with two of those single-room restrooms, one marked for each sex. Of course, there are many more men at the gym, so it not uncommon for a guy to try the handle on the men's room and find it locked. I saw-- not once but twice, by different men-- a guy try the handle, find it locked, then turn and go into the women's room instead.

And why not?

Skeletons Reaching Up

With the recent rain storms, the stubbornest trees have finally given up their leaves, so that all that are going to, now stand bare. I love skeletal trees against a gray sky! The neat thing is that when trees have leaves, they look nicely balanced, as if their limbs are just being held up and out horizontally. But bare trees reveal that the branches and twigs actually reach upward toward the sky; it is the flexible leaves hanging from them that are nearly horizontal.

From their very bones, trees reach heavenward.

Buddha cat

My sister's cat came for Christmas-- first time I'd met the creature. He is great with the two children (ages 3 and 7), who like to drag him around like a stuffed animal, occasionally squeezing the breath out of him in delighted exuberance. These things do not bother him.

He lives in a different time dimension, moving with the slow deliberation of a cat three times his age. He never runs, is slow to rouse, and is content to watch most activities with an impassive gaze.

I am ashamed to admit that I ridiculed this cat at first. I thought him dumb as an ox, which is no compliment to a cat.

He may indeed not have much intelligence, but that's no insult. My brother-in-law pointed out instead that Cooper is at ease with himself and the Universe, the epitome of patience and calm. And he's right. They should have named the cat Siddhartha.

Natural events

80,000 people is too many to really comprehend. I mean really comprehend, as in understanding their complex lives as we do those of our friends and family.

It was not an evil thing that the Earth did, deep in an underwater fissure-- a sudden slip, a realignment of plates, the simple relief of pressure. It just acted as it had to, according to the laws of nature. The dynamics of being a planet with a warm core and cool crust sets up the conditions requiring that what we call earthquakes must happen.

As conscious creatures, we are the ones with hearts, feeling the pain and loss and fear that collect around our idea of "earthquake." It hurts us to see suffering, to feel it ourselves, to dread it in the future. The dynamics of being a thinking creature with sensitivity and a mind sets up the conditions requiring that we feel pain in the wake of destructive natural events.

It hurts. So many beings are suffering, so many have died. Honoring our heart's response, we help as we can, with money or other assistance.

Nature seems alternately cruel or kind, evil or benign, vindictive or protective. But those distinctions exist only in our conceptions. Nature is, in fact, just nature. Just as it is.

And so are our hearts. Please heed the urges you feel to be generous. Let yourself help in any way possible. It's only natural.