Through Lattice Windows: Regrettably Impractical
"One of the most difficult questions a blind person has to face is, "What is my purpose in life?" We cannot help but envy doctors, builders, farmers, dressmakers, police inspectors, computer specialists, electricians and make-up artists. Not for the kind of work they do, necessarily, but for the sense of usefulness that comes with doing it,'' says Leanne Hunt.
I have dreamed of working in a laboratory, examining specimens of tissue, identifying bacteria and viruses, contributing to the eradication of disease. I have envied people who master Greek and Hebrew, study ancient manuscripts, decipher hidden codes and reveal lost wisdom. My longing to follow in the footsteps of Beethoven, Mozart and other classical composers has budded, flowered and had to be pruned back because anything that demands good eyesight is beyond my scope.
I accept this. It is not easy, but I have come to terms with the reality of my limitation. So I can't be an astronaut, a hairdresser, an architect, a painter or a pastry chef. But what can I be? What useful role can I play in society? How can I love my neighbor as I love myself?
The question is a haunting one. It doesn't go away when you attend a writing course and are told, "Your gift is with words." Giftedness doesn't equate to service. What is the good of being able to pen a pretty poem when people are dying of cancer, being hijacked in their driveways, losing their jobs or having their electricity switched off because of administrative bungles?
I know a couple who astonish me with their competence. Besides their day jobs, they are deeply committed to an amateur dramatics society. She acts, is secretary of the committee, looks after the costumes and designs the posters for productions. He builds sets, trains backstage crew and oversees the technical equipment. At any one time they are organizing a show or putting together a festival or sourcing new material. Through them, a whole bunch of people benefit.
In direct contrast to them, I struggle to do the simplest task. Once, when my children were young, I was battling to untie a knot in a piece of string. My friend's daughter, who was seven at the time, offered to help me. Within seconds she had succeeded where I had failed. Two university degrees and half a decade of experience as a mother counted for nothing. I was and am, simply, not as practical as that bright little girl.
So what can I do about it? One trick is to look on the bright side. Being helpless gets me out of difficult or boring jobs. Nobody asks me to polish the car or weed the garden. Neither do I get called when someone needs a babysitter or has a problem with installing computer software. This makes for a very comfortable existence. Yet it goes against the grain to be comfortable all the time … especially when there is so much need in the world.
A better solution is required, one that will resolve my guilt and point me in the right direction. I want to be useful, even if I am not practical.
With regard to the guilt, I have found the following to work best: I ask myself, "Did you choose this?" The answer is no. That being the case, I cannot take responsibility for what is realistically beyond my capability. God has allowed me to be handicapped, for some mysterious reason that I do not know about, and so I must say, "Amen, so be it."
With regard to the way forward, the issue is a little harder to address. I want to be helpful, to make my life count, to give something back. If I can't do this in practical ways, I must look at contributing in either an intellectual or spiritual capacity. I have spent years developing my mind through lectures, audio books and radio programs, so I have facts, ideas and insights to contribute. But what of my spiritual potential?
Here is where I have had a wake-up call. I realized, quite recently, that spirituality is not about doing but about being. If this sounds like a cliche, let me put it another way. Spirituality is about connecting with others. Connecting doesn't mean conducting business or networking, it simply means being conscious of our shared humanity; acknowledging the abiding conflict between desire and impotence. I know what it's like to struggle. I can relate to anxiety, anger, exhaustion and defeat.
So while the practical person can supply all the material and operational needs of society, I can supply understanding and compassion. And let's face it, understanding and compassion are highly sought after. Those of us who are regrettably impractical can remind ourselves of this from time to time and be of service.
