What Succumbing to the Need For Reading Glasses Has Taught Me About Life
By: Kit Plummer
Tags: Appreciation, Focus, Getting Older, Life Lessons

I’m almost 50. My kids are self-sufficient (for the most part), one having produced a son of their own, and the other learning life through college academics and sport. All to say that I’ve done and seen quite the myriad of things. I’ve had my share of physical and mental injury, and been a part of many others’. But recently a new twist on life — my vision, the literal kind, is changing and providing new perspective, the not-so-literal kind.

So, the deal is I can see clearly as ever from beyond a meter. Anything closer requires a transition time. Anything within 35 centimeters I can’t get focus. I’d been dealing with this for a couple of years. My most recent visit to the eye doc resulted in a “yeah, this is it — you’re getting older, and your eyes are just slowing down”. I took that as gospel and figured I just need to be patient and focus would come. The biggest pain was transitioning from my phone to anything else, but I got used to it.

While touring the local “department-ish” store I noticed the tall rack of “readers” and thought “wonder what these actually do”. Well, holy hell! I picked the middle “strength” and put ’em on. I couldn’t focus on a single thing. So I tried the lowest “strength” — maybe 100's — and looked at my hand. To my amazement it was like I was seeing it for the first time. In a rush of excitement I pulled my phone out of my pocket, did the obligatory swipe, stared. My first thought was — oh, this is what it is supposed to look like. I couldn’t see get focus on anything a meter away, but was astonished. First lesson, no doctor’s visit or prescription required — I could see my phone without making the font 150% bigger. And I’d instantly wished somebody had let me in on this secret before.

Over the past few months I’ve come to terms with forgetting to take my “readers” with me. I’ve bought at least four pairs on Amazon and stash them in the obvious places (on my desks, night stand and coffee table). I now know why that tall rack of readers exists at every drug and department store. And I’m thankful they only cost around 10 bucks.

To the greater lesson, the more philosophical story — the one that drew me to want to share. The biggest down-side to the “reader” need is the transition. For sunglasses I’m a “top-of-the-head/hat” wearer, so it seemed natural to simply flip my readers atop. But this is weird — it just doesn’t work the same as sunglasses. And so I learned that there’s quite the landscape of options. There’s the magnet-nose, the kind of glasses that wrap around the back and allow you to pull them apart and drop them to your neck. There’s the cord dangler, the half-glass-nose-dropper-look-over-the-topper, and I’m sure many other options.

Because I’m generally lazy, I’ve found myself not bothering to take them off, especially if I’m just going from one familiar thing to another. This creates a strange moment where my focus is simply gone and I’m forced to trust my sense of things, my general awareness of my surroundings. At first it was indeed uncomfortable and I’d quickly remove the “readers”. Now it is like a little micro-adventure, when I can indulge myself to be lost in the transition from one thing to another. Such a simple thing — focus, or the lack of it. I don’t look forward to these things, but have unconsciously accepted it is a part of my new reality. Probably most importantly, I’m learning.

Change isn’t always a comfortable thing — it comes with varying degrees of control. Vision, and it’s main attribute, focus, are a complicated, sometimes scary, fact of life. While I was unprepared for this change, I’m taking an opportunity to, terribly pun eminent, look at things differently — or just look around more. Making sense of the “reader” rack, or coming to terms with changes in patterns, or coping with awkward new transitions, it all is fundamental to life. And maybe we do need moments where lack of focus and clarity is simply OK. Perhaps it is even more than just a passive event, and worth some depth. Having to develop some new sensations, even if through my micro-adventures, I feel to healthy. While I know with certainty that my vision will continue to change I’m looking forward to it.

Lastly, I know I’m in the select group, that is overly fortunate to not have had to learn these lessons until my true mid-life. It is a strange thought though, to consider that the majority have had to wear some sort of corrective vision things at one point or another in their lives. In some ways I don’t feel fortunate. Again, it’s that focus thing, and I’d wished I’d gained some more appreciation for it earlier in my life. I am learning to not have focus, literally and figuratively, and I think I’m better for it.

<a title=”Mk2010 / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)" href=”https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Reading_glasses_.jpg"><img width=”512" alt=”Reading glasses “ src=”https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3a/Reading_glasses_.jpg/512px-Reading_glasses_.jpg"></a>