Notes From A Wide-Eyed Optimist

Not a nibble.

I’d lost count of the number of applications I had filled out.  The candidate questionnaires I had completed.  My hopes rose each time I checked my email or reviewed my profile views. My hopes crashed with every in-box stuffed only with Talbot’s sales notifications.

Nada.

Despite all my optimism, all my confidence in my abilities and the value of my experience…nothing.  Well, not exactly nothing.  There were a few, “Thanks, but no thanks…” responses.  At least I did appreciate their speedy dashing of my hopes rather than this lingering death by compulsive checking and re-checking.  (Is there a word for that, I wonder?)

At the same time, my 23 year old daughter is being courted by some serious NYC firms. The child whose nose I wiped for years is now a hot commodity, while I can’t even get a first interview. As genuinely proud and happy as I am for her success, this is awkward…and embarrassing…and defeating… (Need I go on?)

Maybe my plans of relocating to a major metropolitan area was really a “pipe dream.” Perhaps my aspirations needed some radical downsizing. All those little voices of doubt started chiming in, piling on, pushing me down and blocking the sun.

My vision was dimming….literally and figuratively.  Along with my diminishing vision for the future, I had been struggling with a thick cataract on my right eye. My brain had commenced compensating long ago; my world reduced to a murky two-dimensional replica of the real world of sharp angles and vibrant hues.

And this loss had happened so slowly, so steadily, I hadn’t even noticed it slipping away. Not only had I become comfortable with this second-hand existence, but I had forgotten the breathtaking beauty of what was really true.

My surgery was scheduled for this week.  I’ve never been so pumped for having someone take a sharp blade to a body part in my life.  The night before,  I pulled up my email expecting to see what the latest sale at Talbot’s would yield and turn in.

And there it was.

Someone inviting me to an interview.  I literally jumped up out of my chair when I saw it. That’s all I needed.  Shrouded by the deceiving fog of self-doubt, my dreams now burst forth in splendid Technicolor.

Yesterday, my 15 minutes under the knife inevitably led to the unveiling of my eye. I dared not allow myself to anticipate how successful the procedure would be. In the instant that the bandage was removed, my eye was flooded with color and dimension…I was nearly overcome with all the sensory information being piped into my brain.

The disparity between the shadows where I had been existing and the true vibrancy of the world came crashing into my consciousness. How had I tolerated this two-dimensional world for this long? How could I have operated within these limits and constraints?  How had I settled for impaired vision when there was so much more to see?

Today, I am looking forward with both eyes clearly locked on my target.  I have traded in my dusty world of lies and shadows for the vivid reality of truth and glorious light.   I know I have much to offer and my dreams will be as real as I will them to be. No matter how many applications I need to fire off or rejections racked up,  I can’t accept less than that.

Having lost my vision once, I can promise you, I won’t let it happen again.

“…was blind, but now I see.”

John Newton

 

 

 

 

 

 

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