Topic: Dailies

Seeing Without Eyes

by

Leo Crocker Rogers

Here is a mental trip that may be new to you.

Ready for the trip?

It is cool when I come forth. And like all others, I cry at the surprise. I feel things I have not felt before. Before, all was equally tactile. Now, there are spots of touch and spots of un-touch. I hear sounds. That is what is most interesting, sounds. The smells are somewhat different but such is not important to me.

Sometimes I feel random touches, but I almost always feel something beneath me. I know an up and a down. Up is where I am more comfortable. When I put my up down, I am uncomfortable. I suck on something, and it seems natural.

I grow. I have limbs that allow me to hold things. It feels strange, but when I am helped upright, I can feel me being tall. I learn to walk. But mostly, I learn to listen. What I hear, feel, and smell are all of interest, but what I hear is of most interest. I hear a sound and repeat it, and something happens. I learn the word "food", and I am given something to eat. Neat. Even neater is that when I say, "candy", I am given something sweet. So I gain a vocabulary. With my vocabulary, ideas form. I hear sentences, and they begin to make sense. I think.

Those with whom I converse say that I think differently than others think. I don’t know what that means, but the concept seems to justify who I am. They say I am blind.

People try to tell me about the ability to "see", but it makes no difference to me. They have it, and I do not. Does that make them better? I have no idea. It does make me different. I am given things to do. I learn to type so I can write. My ideas are "different".

My ideas about the universe are more expansive and unlimited than others. My ideas about love are pure qualities defined. My ideas about God are really different because I have almost no materiality in my thought about God.

Others move me from one location to another. I am not sure why. Some places smell differently than others. Some places have more sounds than others. Some places are colder than others. But I adjust. I am able to find my way around where I live, go to the bathroom, wash, and even feed myself. God is great. Life is good, and I very much like music. I listen a lot. What I do not like is the jabber of people. Certain people seem to talk as if talking is the only thing they know how to do. Seems to me that they ought to go into a room and talk to themselves. Then again, they find other people to talk to and they jabber together. I leave.

Then one day, I meet a person who thinks like me. Where we meet is of no mind. Others really think that a place called a restaurant is something special. My new acquaintance and I don’t think so. Food is fuel, some sweet, some salty, and some fat, and we both like them all. What is interesting in my conversations with my new friend is that he is able to focus on a thought, not drift in conversation or tumble his ideas. His sense of time is like mine – a period to accomplish a task or convey an idea. Mostly, our common appreciation is music. Music sings in our soul.

Well, my new friend and I are now meeting twice a week, on a Sunday and Wednesday. We meet in my home and in a room where we are alone. We have a music player, we have computers on which we both type, and we have Braille readers. Of course, you guessed without my telling you, my new friend is blind too. How special, how very special, special.  Commonality bonds.

Before now, I read somewhat, but now that my new friend and I visit, his name is Ryan, and we desire to talk about things that are beyond our present learning, we both read much of the time.

One day, we were taken to an amusement park, and there was a merry-go-round. We mounted separate horses and went round and round. It was exciting. Both of us had to hold tightly not to fall from the horse. We talked to each other afterward and shared that the wind was invigorating and the organ music seemed to enrapture the motion of circling. Too, there were voices of children laughing and squealing.  Ah, sounds.

The park day was a special day. We each had an ice cream cone. Ryan had chocolate, and I strawberry. Seers cannot imagine such a day. When I use my non-seeing words to describe how I feel, seers do not understand. We live in different worlds.

What is wonderful is that our third friend, a "seer", has agreed to take us "out" once a week. From these excursions, I have more stories to tell than you can imagine and if you desire, I will tell you. But before you go, let me tell you of our, so far, greatest adventure.

So sorry, Ryan just came by, and it is our time to listen to Pictures At An Exhibition by Modest Mussorgsky.

Come back on another day, and you may see what I experience.