Time Enough To See

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In my teens and early twenties, I inhaled science fiction, imagining a wider world where anything, however fantastic, was possible. I loved the classic author Robert Heinlein’s writing about the Immortals, headed by patriarch Lazarus Long. They lived for centuries, with plenty of time for multiple careers, learning many languages, and becoming masters at various skills. They had to leave town and move on after 20 or 30 years, when non-Immortals started getting suspicious about their not ageing “normally”. However they had the extended tribe of other Immortals to bond with, so this seemed well worth it to me.

The title of this post is a takeoff on one of Heinlein’s books “Time Enough For Love”. I’ve written before on how rushing is detrimental to vision, at least for me, here. I often feel rushed to see, as if I have to grab that clear-enough image as quickly as possible and move on to the next one. When I do dedicated vision practice, like with the eye chart, I often see the letters clear up after a few seconds of gazing. (It takes longer if I’m not relaxed when I start.) I’ve wondered a few times if my remaining bit of myopia is just that I’m too slow!

For most of my life I’ve felt the need to rush, like Lewis Carroll’s “Alice Through The Looking Glass” who had to run as fast as possible just to stay in the same place. This is not relaxing! Yesterday a coach offered me a regression session, to explore a troublesome part of my history which could still be affecting me now. I decided to work on my birth, that pivotal moment where I entered the world here, and concluded I was a problem and a bother because I didn’t do it right.

This was an emotional experience for me. My coach urged me to remain the adult, present in support of the new baby, not to merge with her and let her feelings overtake me. I had the bigger perspective and needed to keep that. My mother was screaming in pain which really frightened me the baby. When she was drugged unconscious, mostly because she was upsetting the other mothers and the nurses and doctors, I got the drugs too, and imagined my little self feeling dizzy and confused. I was coming too slowly for the doctor — I heard him yell “We’ve got to get this kid out of there!”. Then I felt a cold metal clamp around my face and head (forceps), preparing to yank me out.

Since this was the peak moment of upset, my coach paused the action and asked how I felt as the baby. I was scared, sure the forceps were punishment for being too slow and doing this all wrong. I wanted to get out, but was anticipating angry faces greeting me. No wonder I was a nervous child, and got those thick glasses so early! The coach asked me what I wanted to feel and to happen, and we re-scripted this event as if the forceps were a fun ride whooshing me along. My curly hair padded the forceps like a pillow so they didn’t hurt. There was a happy welcoming committee of nurses when I was born, who scooped me up and cuddled me since my mother was still unconscious, as they exclaimed over my dark curls.

Who’s to say it couldn’t have been like this? And Adult Me together with Newborn Me decided the doctor’s urgency was not anger at me, or rushing to get to his golf game — he wanted me to have enough oxygen and be as healthy as possible! Over the years I’ve wondered if my forceps birth and that squeezing of my head might have contributed to my early myopia. Maybe I contracted away from this strange device in terror, never allowing my frightened head/brain to fully relax again. In this regression experience, I was born relaxed and calm, knowing I was welcome. I plan to regularly tap back into that feeling, seeing if I can allow my visual system to know it’s safe to reach out.

If we really can create our own Reality, I want one where I have all the time I need to see as much as I want. And one where I’m fast enough when speed is needed, and support is always available. Letting a single painful scary experience dominate my perspective feels short-sighted, if I may say so. I still smile at the memory of those happy nurses. I encourage you to challenge your own negative thoughts, about your vision or anything else, and to see if you can find the good in even a difficult situation. Life is what you make it, so why not make it satisfying and rewarding for yourself?

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Nancy
I wore strong glasses, then contact lenses, for most of my life, starting at age 5. While making many mistakes, eventually l learned how to improve the way I use my eyes and to see in a more relaxed, healthy manner. It is my pleasure to coach others to do the same. Visit me at http://NancyLNeff.com.
Nancy

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Nancy

Author: Nancy

I wore strong glasses, then contact lenses, for most of my life, starting at age 5. While making many mistakes, eventually l learned how to improve the way I use my eyes and to see in a more relaxed, healthy manner. It is my pleasure to coach others to do the same. Visit me at http://NancyLNeff.com.

4 thoughts on “Time Enough To See”

  1. Thanks for the comment, my friend. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about our energy teacher Deborah King saying “There is no time or space”, and another wise dreamer friend telling me years ago “You’ve got all the time in the world”. I’m also still working on letting this in. Here’s to an abundance of moments!

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