The Non-Existent Door

Sometimes my deteriorating vision and mistaken expectations lead to unexpected moments of wisdom. In December, I would like to share some excerpts from my books that lead to a-ha moments. In most of my anecdotes, it doesn’t matter whether you are sighted or vision-impaired. The insight applies to both. These stories are meant to bring us both closer. Hope you enjoy my selections each week.

Post Title: The Non-Existent Door.

“May I help you?” The voice of the receptionist at the optometrist’s office sounded sharp, almost alarmed.

I dropped my hand down to my side. “There isn’t another door, is there?”

“Pardon me?”

She must have spied my white cane then because her voice softened, though it still held a hint of amusement. “Not that I’ve ever seen.”

Too late, I pointed to the entrance. “That’s the only door in the office, right?” I had been pushing against the air, trying to find the door handle to an inner door to the office. I rolled my eyes and extended my cane again. The tip hit at something hard. “I’m at the front desk, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are.”

Oh, great. Not exactly the impression I wanted to begin today’s marketing attempt with.

Now that my eyes had adjusted to the interior lighting and things came into slightly better focus, I introduced myself and said I was the author of the book I was holding. “Is the low vision specialist here today?”

“She’s with a patient now.”

I groaned. Who knew how long that would be? I had someone waiting for me in the car, who had limited time this morning.

“Do you know how long….”

“No, ma’am.”

I launched into a quick Plan B. “How about if I leave my book with you to give her? I’ll write a note explaining my proposal.”

The receptionist handed me a paper and pen. If she thought it strange that I could write but not see well, she didn’t let on.

I wrote my message, being sure to leave my contact information in it. Perhaps she would call this very afternoon to say, “Yes, I’d be thrilled to review your book.” In small towns, people helped each other.

I breathed a silent prayer and gave the woman my penned message.

“The door is straight ahead about six feet. The handle is on the left.”

“Got it!” I turned and walked across the office. This time when I pushed, my hand met with a solid handle and a real door swung open. I walked out, my head high and my cane in front.

Funny how coming into a new place is so challenging while leaving is a whole lot easier. I wonder if that’s why we hesitate when pursuing our goals. There are no instructions. We just take our chances and guess at what is there. As clarity comes, we quickly meet the challenge with any given resource. Knowing we took that hesitant step is confidence-building. Others take their cue from us, and guide us on our way.

No one knows exactly where the doors are. We all have to push until we come up against one that really moves.