Impermanence

Half Light

Fail, fail again, fail better. Samuel Beckett When I lost all vision in my left eye in mid-December, everything got harder, and I was making all kinds of mistakes, but the overriding issue for me is having half the light. It’s like one of my windows is boarded up. I assume that down the road I’ll get used to this, won’t remember what full illumination felt like, but not yet. Pema Chodron used the Beckett quote as the title of a commencement speech published in book form with the same title. Understanding the importance of failure as well as success needs a broad view of failure. All my harshest life events felt like a failure at some level. Self-judgement chases me around like an angry terrier. Chodron defined failure as when things don’t work out the way you want them to and losing sight in one eye is a big one, not a part of my plan. I was painting a detail when suddenly I had trouble focusing, distracted by a series of flashing patterns made of light with big splotches of color bursting all over. It felt like there was a film over one eye distorting what was coming in. I tilted my head to the left hoping the film was on the surface and it would slide off. It didn’t. I thought if I lay down maybe the fireworks would settle. Most of it settled down into an empty grey area with one tiny patch of image coming in which gets smaller every day. The next day the ophthalmologist said a stroke in my eye had starved the receptors and the vision wouldn’t be coming back. Learning how to live with one eye wears me out. Just like expecting Michael to come in the door after he died, I keep expecting the vision to return, keep having the urge to save a certain part of the painting until I can see better. Daily life is darker, my sense of vulnerability stronger. Adapting will take longer than I originally thought. Loss of normal depth perception makes it difficult to judge how far my brush is from the painted surface and I lower it very slowly to avoid a big splotch. I still catch myself waving my brush over the work thinking I’m already there or making a mark where I didn’t intend thinking I was farther away than I was. Frustration over my many mistakes is daily. But I’m learning techniques to compensate. If I turn my head to the left my good eye can focus on the details. Unfortunately, the instinct to turn the head towards where I’m focusing keeps fighting my efforts. So I move the piece to the right. I begin 2026 and the rest of my life blind in one eye. The process of adapting to this is my opportunity to fail better. It’s challenging. I always look at life’s hardships as having something to teach me, I hope as I learn from this it will increase my compassion for other people’s challenges.