Most days, I think I navigate the world pretty well; as if I can almost feel myself in rhythm with all the sighted people who traverse the streets of Hollywood. I can get lost in the fantasy and forget that my lens is broken and I only get part of the picture.
Yesterday I was at our local Ralphs Supermarket, picking up milk, bell peppers and Muenster. The grocery store is always a bit of a challenge for me; people, shopping carts and displays, all an array of accidents waiting to happen. I always opt for the hand basket rather than a shopping cart because it just isn’t safe for me to drive any vehicle, motorized or not.
I was hit by a car in the parking lot of the Ralphs in this story, so I tend to take my time and make sure I am constantly scanning my surroundings. The problem is that I often think I am doing a pretty complete scan, but in reality, I am failing to look past my own edges. These are the times when RP pops up and slams me in the face.
I found the items on my list and managed to get around the store and through the checkout unscathed. This doesn’t always happen, so I was feeling pretty confident and, mistakenly, sure-footed. As my usual routine dictates, I stopped in a quiet corner to change from inside glasses to sun glasses before venturing out into the sun and heat. Did I mention there was a massive heat wave in Los Angeles? I walked across the threshold of sliding doors and out into the heart of sweltering Hollywood.
Given my previous run in with a dark blue Accord, I took a long pause just outside the lines of the parking lot. The traffic was thick and the whole neighborhood seemed to be approaching the store, so I stole a breath and waited until I thought my path was clear. I stepped forward with self-assurance and crashed into a display of clay pumpkin pots. One of them went reeling and broke into pieces on the ground; RP singing its cruel melody to the sound of breaking pottery. Happy fucking Halloween.
October 27, 2015 at 10:32 pm
I can relate to your broken clay pumpkin. Although I don’t have any problems with sight, my other maladies contribute to my clumsiness. I’ve tripped over displays and have fallen flat on my face. I’ve knocked things down from stacks and shelves, breaking a few items in the process – and sometimes the shelf itself. I’ve dropped all manner of things, including baskets full of a plethora of craft items that go rolling everywhere. I’ve bumped into every kind of display with my giant and wide ass. It can be alternately amusing and embarrassing, depending on where I am when it occurs. It’s all in a day’s stumbling.
I used to get really down on myself, but I finally realized it’s just part of having health challenges. People like us deserve compassion rather than judgement and shame. We have to deal with so much more than normal people. It’s a gift and a curse.
The gift of my illness is freedom from having to put on my “work face” and pull myself up to the mere surface of life. I can stay in the flow of creativity almost all the time. Even when I’m too sick to DO anything I am thinking and planning what I’m going to create next. The process doesn’t get interrupted by very much at all. I also don’t have to spend time with anyone who is less than nourishing and uplifting. I’m lucky to be able to spend almost all my waking hours with my wonderful wife. Having a disability isn’t all bad for me.
My wish is for you to find compassion and peace for yourself when it comes to your RP. It’s not your fault, and it’s not shameful. You are such a beautiful person, and you deserve to love yourself no less than we love you.
November 1, 2015 at 1:29 pm
You never fail to enlighten and make me feel loved. Thank you Lady C.
January 5, 2016 at 3:05 pm
I believe disability is largely imposed from without. One can only do one’s best. Anyway, thank you for following my blog.