No matter how much of a planner you are, you can’t schedule inspiration or motivation. And isn’t it sort of funny how they always show up at the most inconvenient times? Like when your hands are full, or when you’re at what is possibly the busiest/craziest/messiest point in your life? Why is it that all these ideas and epiphanies and thoughts come at moments when you’re clawing your way just to find a second to write them down?
I pondered these thoughts as my eye doctor squirted local anesthetic in my eye and placed my head into a metal vice so he could inspect the damage of the cornea scratch my 19-month old son gave me earlier that day.
“How the heck did the little guy manage to give you a scratch like that?” he asked, shining light in my eye. Those glorious numbing drops gave me a few minutes of reprieve so that I could open it enough to have the doctor check my vision, and it no longer felt like shards of glass under my eyelid, but those drops were wearing off fast and so was my tolerance for this vice my head was in.
I explained that the scratch came as he sat in my lap while I was reading to him (yes, reading), when he decided out of nowhere to throw him arms up into the air, commencing his mission to blind his mother. You see, he does this thing to signal he’s “All done!” by raising his arms over his head like he’s part of a baby stickup, and apparently once we got to the page where we “pet the woolly lamb” he became very pumped about being ALL DONE with this godforsaken book and he blasted my eye with his
baby dagger nail.
I had a vision of that stupid woolly lamb, but suddenly, it was gone.
One trip to the eye doctor, five days of prescription drops, and two days of wearing sunglasses indoors (they don’t do the patch anymore, which was disappointing), and I’m finally able to drive and read again.
Thanks to the return of my vision, inspiration has come back. I’m planting my garden now so next week I’ll have posts about growing micro greens (my new obsession), garden tips, and a DIY natural yoga mat cleaner, so I can truly enjoy all those non-toxic deep breaths as I get my stretch on. Namaste.
And now, I leave you with possibly the cutest thing I’ve seen all week – a baby of the Internet (not my baby), putting his hands up into the air. Just like Ciro did when he blasted me in the eye, but way cuter because, you know, no one’s vision was compromised. Make sure the sound is on as you watch (and try not to die from adorableness). I don’t think this guy will cut your cornea, but maybe wear an eye patch, just in case.