The Truth about Vision and Everything in Between
There are certain things in life that you know for certain even before you see it. There are the obvious things - like knowing two comes after one, or Monday comes after Sunday, and that the seasons change from spring to summer, summer to fall, and fall to spring.
There are also assumptive things - like waking up, and believing that tomorrow will come, that you’ll see a loved one again and you’ll have your job for a long time. It’s easy to live in an assumptive world. The world of knowing that when you open your eyes, you’ll see the world that somehow awaits you despite and inspite of everything. Seeing is one of the assumptive truths we learn to take for granted.
But what happens if something breaks that assumptive mundane chain? What happens to your belief when the one thing you trusted to be for certain greets you with a kind of darkness you didn’t expect?
Skewed Vision
A few months ago, a bit early for my age, I underwent cataract surgery in both eyes. My left eye’s procedure was seamless. I had 20/20 vision and was inspired by the new view. I continued on with my days beaming with a bright new outlook, and so when the time came for my right eye’s surgery, I had similar expectations - better even as afterwards I’d have double the bright view.
Unfortunately, after the procedure, I felt pain in my right eye, and it turned out that the complications I had with it left my vision as cloudy as a foggy morning. It was like looking through a fully drenched rainy windshield, and no matter how fast the wipers swung back and forth, the drenched windshield and fog remained. I couldn’t even read the largest letters during the eye exam.
Over the years, I’ve learned to trust that time can heal most things, so I wasn’t anxious about whether I’d see clearly again or not. They had sent me home after administering a shot and prescribing new eye drops, but the pain and blurriness persisted. Being resilient by nature, oddly I was calm. What frustrated me was that the doctors had no explanation for why this was happening to my right eye and not my left, or when—if ever—I’d get answers.
The Weight of Expectations
It was a month later that things started to actually feel heavy.
Caught in the unknown, my resilience met a roadblock. I thrive on facts and clarity, so being left in a space, with no answers, drove me nuts. The darkness of unanswered questions slowed me down, making it hard to move with finesse in my life’s work.
I hadn’t really shared all of it with my immediate family either, because I didn't want them to carry anxious concerns waiting for answers. I did however expect more support from friends because my eyes/vision was skewed, and driving was quite unnerving.
The impact of unmet expectations showed up in full force. No one was at fault as people have their reasons for what they choose to do or not do, but the loneliness I felt in that moment was stark. I had to face it all — no clear answers, no easy reasons why — just the reality that I had to keep moving forward. I had to show up with the responsibilities of being a business owner, a woman, a sister, a mother, and a daughter who didn’t want to bring worry.
Despite everything, I knew that God’s plan for me was bigger, and my faith for him even stronger. This incident forged an opportunity to draw the right people into my life and put everything into perspective. And so in this eye journey, I continue to journey.
I, Journey
“Falling apart wasn’t an option – it was a story of falling into place. ”
I learned to take the day in small, steady steps. It wasn’t just in the medicine or the regimen, but in my own healing - within my mind. I chose to be calm and learned again to embrace unexpected, life-interrupting events. I’ve said many times that in the midst of the storm, what’s within your control is how you respond to what’s being thrown at you.
I guess what hit me in the heart most was that I was alone during what could’ve been one of the darkest times in my life — facing the unknown of what had happened. The fear of the uncertainty weighed heavily on me. But thankfully, it didn’t turn out to be as dark as I had feared.
I found that although the people I had expected to show up didn’t, people who I didn’t expect to be there showed up for me, and for that I will always be grateful.
I have experienced belief in a lot of things in my life even before things materialized, however this time in the literal isolation of an unknown cause of a major life event, I found a different kind of resilience — a oneness with God, that can only be described as spiritual alignment. It gave new meaning to what I've said before.
“Seeing is believing but it take a wo(man) of great faith to see before she believes"
And when darkness comes, there’s always the option of flipping the switch, and turning the light on.
Just because you’re forced to sometimes be left in a dark situation, doesn’t mean you have to stay there.
Even the absence of sight - I was still seeing.
I See
This experience has completely redefined even my understanding of vision—both in the literal and metaphorical sense. It’s taught me another side of resilience, perspective, and most importantly, faith. While my physical vision is still a work in progress, my spiritual and inner sight has expanded – expanded beyond the darkness of silence.
I came to realize that I/we are never truly alone. My moments of isolation and aloneness brought me closer to God, allowing me to understand that everything I needed was and is already around me. It wasn’t about who I expected to show up, but rather who was meant to be there—and they were, even if I didn’t recognize it right away.
At first, not knowing what caused the complications with my eye was challenging. It felt like I was part of an experiment that no one told me about. There was frustration in not having answers, and it was hard to reconcile why this was happening. But when the doctors finally admitted it was Toxic Anterior Segment Syndrome (TASS), I felt relieved. There was finally clarity, even if it didn’t come in the form I expected.
In the end, while the journey to fully restore my vision continues, my sense of purpose remains as strong as ever. The truth about vision is that sometimes, you don’t need sight to truly see. It's often in those moments of not seeing that you gain the clearest insight.
Believing before you see is the key. In your darkest moments, when you trust in that belief, who and what you need will show up. This part of my life's journey involved my eyes/sight; a vital part of one's existence, and more than ever, I understood what you need is never too far away and is always there awaiting....and the who or what might just surprise you.
Vision brings clarity beyond sight!
The truth about vision and everything in between is that sometimes, clarity doesn’t come from seeing, but from trusting. It’s about believing that even in the unknown, there’s a divine plan unfolding. You may not always get the answers you want right away, but if you hold on to faith, the right people, the right moments, and the right lessons will always find their way to you. Vision isn’t just about sight—it’s about knowing that, with faith, everything will fall into place exactly as it should.