The blind girl

I start today in a bad mood. I try to work out the reason, but there are so many contenders. Frog and I had a disagreement last night and we haven’t sorted it out yet. It’s Monday. It’s raining. I have no ideas for my blogs.

    I don’t even want to write. I don’t want to get back into the constant-mind-whirring state I was in at the end of last week. Blogging isn’t proper writing anyway I tell myself and what’s the point of anything else? The chances of publication, let alone making any money, are less than the chances of a big win on the lottery.

    I dawdle through some admin and then, as the day looms emptily ahead of me, decide that I’m going to have to do my daily pages (http://seeksperfection.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/a-difficult-day.html  *). I haven’t done any since last Tuesday.

    I sit down in the conservatory and open the doors so that I can at least smell the outside even if I can’t sit there.

    And as I write, things begin to make sense again. I get back inside myself and look from the inside out, instead of the other way round. I start noticing things – about myself, about the rain-washed garden. I remember a dream.

    Now I have to make another confession. Not only do I believe that wishes can come true, but I also believe in synchronicity. (In case you haven’t come across the word before in its new agey form, I’ll try and explain it briefly. It means that nothing in the universe is random. The people we bump into, the things we notice, the things that go on around us – all happen for a reason.)

    And for some reason, I picked up yesterday a scrappy piece of paper on which I’d scrawled down the description of a dream I’d had. It is this I remember as I do my daily pages. I get an urge to tell you about it.

    I climb up to my room and fish the piece of paper out of my filing tray. It is dated (the night of) 5-6 August 2012, almost exactly a year ago. It reads:

I was engaged as companion to a blind girl. She was lovely – very beautiful, intelligent and nice. I wanted to say to her, but didn’t get the chance, ‘If your blindness came on suddenly, it was for a purpose, and when that purpose is fulfilled, you will see again.’

If the blind girl is me as well as the 'I' of the dream (as my counsellor/hypnotherapist would have said), what is it I’m not seeing?

Later, I wonder if that's the right question. Perhaps I should be asking, what is/was the purpose of the blindness? Am I still blind?**


* Sorry for this clumsy link. Blogger won't let me do it properly at the moment.

** Frog says that I should emphasise that I’m talking about metaphorical blindness here and I’m definitely not implying that people bring blindness on themselves.