Power

New Glasses Reality Check

May 6, 2023

I think that there is something wrong with my new glasses.

I look much older in them than I did in my old ones.

It can’t be that my old glasses were weak. It must be that my new ones are too strong, that they are magnifying everything! Sure, I can see better. But what I’m seeing also includes my face which is three years older than the last time I got glasses.

The good Costco optometrist told me that my new prescription is three clicks stronger than my old one.

Three clicks apparently make a difference.

My face had changed in ways I couldn’t easily see before.

I noticed it right after I put them on, the first time I looked in a mirror. What was that red spot on my chin? What were those pores? And wrinkles! Oh, the wrinkles!

I was confused at first. Had something happened to my face?

It took me a few minutes to figure out what was going on.

I got older. My new glasses just helped me see it.

It’s a gift, I know, to mature. Nothing to complain about. “Better than the alternative,” as my Mom always used to say.

I guess I had been wandering through the world these last years with eyes that were not as sharp as they used to be. One of the benefits of that, apparently? Not seeing my aging face with crystal clear precision. In my old glasses, the world seemed softer, less harsh. I guess I did, too.

It’s good to have new glasses, though.

(There’s nothing wrong with them after all.)

It’s a gift to have the resources to get new glasses, a gift to walk through the world and see things more clearly.

Even myself. Wrinkles and all.

Daily Grace, Presence

Dumpster Hallelujah

April 29, 2023

Two beautiful things appeared in my front yard the other day: spring flowers and a dumpster

My good neighbor asked the other day if I would want to split the cost of renting a dumpster. Renting a dumpster has been on my list of things to do for possibly years now, but is something I never quite managed to accomplish. Probably because it required making a phone call to the dumpster people. And that, apparently, was too large a job for me to handle.

My good neighbor accomplished this task in record time without complaint the other day, and the dumpster arrived in my front yard earlier this week.

I have been almost giddy ever since.

Because there was so much stuff that had accumulated in my house and yard. Stuff that was broken or outdated or worn out. Stuff that depressed me to look at it. Stuff that I didn’t want and that nobody else wanted, either. There was the bicycle that was added to our collection when we put a perfectly acceptable bike out on the curb, hoping that someone would adopt it. Nobody did, and then overnight a second less acceptable bike appeared next to it, one that we had to bring back to the house so the trash collectors wouldn’t charge us for it. I also had a broken barbeque, a lawnmower that hadn’t worked for years, a patio table that shattered under the weight of last February’s snow, cracked plastic storage bins, rotting wood, a falling apart sled, rickety chairs that wouldn’t hold your weight, my son’s warped scooter that was perfect for him when he was six, but he’s eighteen now. My neighbor dumped a worn out mattress, a broken bedframe, an old printer.

Gone, gone, gone.

All of it gone.

The waste management company promises that it recycles all materials at its landfill, so there’s less to feel guilty about.

Less guilt (because I do feel a little guilt for some reason, that possibly somebody, somewhere, would benefit from some of what we are trashing. It’s the “reuse” part of the “reduce, reuse, recycle” mantra.) But also? It is freeing to see the space now in my backyard, space where so much that was broken lived for years, stuff that was rusting and rotting and falling apart.

The dumpster will be here until Wednesday. Even with all that we’ve already added? It’s only about half full. But I’m sure that if we keep looking, we’ll find more to let go of.

It’s all about the letting go.

It feels like a fresh start.