Tuesday, 14 December 2010

I spy....my mind's eye

Years ago, I tried to read this book.


It was the paperback copy, so it looked less 
'Harvard Business School' 
than this one, but I still didn't finish it.

It was pretty helpful for my oft recurring insomnia though.

Even prior to picking it up, I believed in the philosophy behind it - that the way we look at things, and think about them, can drive how we feel about them. 
It's standard Cognitive Behavorial Therapy stuff.


That said, it’s quite hard to be disciplined enough
to practise all that stuff – 
what with work and deadlines, 
managing a life of bills and savings and splurges, 
understanding mobile phone tariffs,  hair straightening,
face time and facebook time, 
and all the malarkey that goes with real life.

But I had a reminder of the power
of setting your intentions this past week.

On Friday morning the amazing friend I’ve been staying with asked about my intentions for the day; 
it was a bit of a joke, but she persisted, 
and we discussed how the day, and my Lasik eye operation,
was going to go.

 Later, en route to the hospital, 
she realized I was a bit nervous & more than a smidgeon twitchy, 
so we re-established those intentions.

 I robed up and went into theatre,
and after persuading the doctor to whack a couple extra anesthetic drops in to ensure that there wasn't a scene,
he started.

It wasn't sore, but I didn't like it.

There was a suction cup placed on my eyeball,
not dissimilar to a pap smear v-j-j opener, but on my EYEBALL; 
then a noise like a dentist's drill as he sliced open my cornea to create a flap;
and the smell of burning eyeball flesh as he lasered by globes. 
I'm not really sure why they didn't think to strap me down.

Fortunately, at that moment, our conversation came flooding back; I did a little bit of 3-part breathing,
and told myself how lucky I was to be able to afford this;
how grateful I am that this procedure is available and safe;
how fortunate it was that a schoolfriend, (whom I haven’t seen for over 10 years but for Facebook), recommended this doctor;
and how this was a great gift to myself.

By the time all those thoughts were done, so was the surgeon.
I think maybe he only lasered my left eye
and just sprinkled some magic dust on the right one.

Within 15 minutes of going into surgery,
I climbed off the bed with what looked like welding glasses sticky-taped to my face,
and even through the plastic, I realized I could see.

Waking up the next morning and seeing the Drakensburg mountains come into focus without the aid of my normal contact lenses,
I couldn’t have been more ecstatic about the gift of sight.

Except perhaps for the gift of knowing that I can totally
be in charge of how I feel about things.

It feels even more powerful than 20/20 x-ray vision.



because I decided to spare you some horrific google images of Laser Eye therapy, here are some other pretty pictures instead:
beach in the snow in England this winter
Freedom Cafe at the Concierge Hotel, Durban, KZN
homemade photobooth wall
laundry instructions I can live with
and my two current favourite obsessions:
my Smythson jewellery roll and Tinsley





images: poster,amazon,pinterest

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