Perspective

A couple days ago, I lost my glasses. What happened was this: I settled into my bed for a nap, put my glasses on my laptop which was also on the bed, woke up, went back to sleep, and when I finally got out of bed, my glasses were gone. When Henry came home, we looked all over for the glasses. He took the mattress off the bed, and I peered under it, but couldn't find them. I looked under the bed. I looked under all the beds in the house. We thought maybe I slept-walked and put the glasses somewhere, anywhere. Still couldn't find them.

It really bugged me that I lost my glasses. It was also like I was losing my mind. Lately, I've been a lot more forgetful, to the point where we have a rule that I'm not allowed to light candles without Henry's supervision (not that I came close to burning down the house or anything, but just to be safe). But also, my glasses kind of really define my face now that I don't have hair, especially lacking eyebrows and eyelashes. And they are the pair of glasses that fit my face best. I like the other ones I got, but I save those for special occasions or when I feel like looking a little different. In other words, these particular glasses that I lost were the most comfortable to me on many levels. I liked the way I see out of them, the way they felt.

Today, for some strange reason, I felt compelled to get down on my belly on the floor of our bedroom, and look at the tarot books that are on my bedside table and shelf. I haven't looked there in a while. I found the decorative cloths that I bought at the shady thrift store last month. I must have stuffed them down there, thinking that's where they belonged. Then I remembered that I was going to use them for my tarot readings. This led me to realize that I still haven't done my 2008 tarot reading. I've been hesitant because I have a bit of trepidation about the future and all that. But I feel the pull of the tarot, that it will help me bring new perspective to my life. Then I just happened to turn my head slightly to the left, and lo and behold: my lost glasses! They were lying under a rolling bag where I keep all the cards and letters that people have sent and given to me since my diagnosis.

I felt that this was some divine intervention at work. I myself don't belong to any organized religion, but I do believe I am guided by spirits and such. The whole ordeal of losing my glasses and the weird way in which I found them led me to think that someone was telling me that I need to change my perspective--the way I see things--get out of my comfort zone for a while, get out of the rut that I've been in for the past month and a bit. Then I thought of my brother-in-law George, who passed away in July from lung cancer. At his memorial service, they handed out little buttons with his trademark white glasses on them. That's all the buttons had on them. His white glasses. People knew him by his glasses. In some way, I felt like perhaps it was George who delivering the message to me.

Anyway, I was so happy to find my glasses, and in the way that this temporary loss has turn out to be mystical for me, I've become motivated again to keep living and being thankful for the life I do have.