My last post was about a recent diagnosis of blepharitis. Truly, I feel this is a whole lotta nothing. I have additional blood work that I’m waiting for result interpretation on that will tell me if there’s “more” at play here than is outwardly evident, but I’m confident I’m otherwise healthy.
While I’m waiting on those results, and while I sit here in my own body aware of how wonky my eyes feel and appear right now, and definitely chewing on thoughts that this condition is likely to end up being something I’ll have to manage from now till my end, it naturally (although perhaps ignorantly) crossed my mind that I might actually look as I do currently – from now onward.
That sucks. But only a little.
Why only a little? Because it’s happened a billion times since my birth. And since yours, too. Clearly, I’m no longer the infant I once was. After that came my toddlerhood, which has also dissolved into nothingness apart from memories. Then I was a juvenile and adolescent, followed by years as a young adult. All of that is behind me as I exit my years as a young adult, and if you were to look at pictures from those times, you would notice obvious physical changes. Internal changes happening with me are tougher to see in photos.
Do I lament no longer looking like my old infant self? Nope. Am I distraught that I no longer appear to be a seventh grader? Negative. Although there were physical characteristics of my late teens and early 20s /30s that I would really enjoy saying apply to me as I leave the early 30s, even those things are not anything to fuss over. Each old “me” has been replaced by a subsequent “me” and this will continue until I finally leave. Your journey is likely to be very much the same.
So, what happens if I move forward in life with these different-looking eyelids of mine? What if they don’t return to what they used to look like? I can tell you: It will be no different than the thing that might happen if my family and I reviewed pictures of my infancy. “Oh look how cute you were! You were always such a good baby – just always happy. You never really did cry much.”
And? And nothing. I’m no longer an infant. We could go through every distinguishable phase of my life and the response wouldn’t (shouldn’t!) differ. I’m not any of those me’s, am I? Of course not.
This is Shiva’s Dance. We’re meant to be willing and graceful partners in the dance. Each new “me” is just an additional lift or dip in the Dance I’m going with The One.
I kinda want my eyes to look like they did before June of this year. But if they don’t, so be it. I plan to keep dancing.
Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namaha