The words resound within my mind: I have to start somewhere. I have to take small, steady steps.
In my mind, I envision someone trying to write a book by first making sure the cover design is supreme. What sense does that make?
I may not be an author although perhaps I will revisit these words in the future and see through a filter of a much more esteemed grace, but right now I speak into a cold, bleak darkness. I wonder…does anyone hear me? Hmm…
My vision alone is the same. I want to touch people. I want to reach out. I can’t see. Last night, I had a dream about my sister. I saw gladiators fighting. They looked like they came right out of the cast of Troy. I fell blind suddenly. I saw through eyes that were like a split screen television. In a way, it was an outer body experience. Unnerved by my disability, I began to stumble around.
Then I began to dance. It was as if I was one with my sister, who is a dancer in actuality. Being blind, however, hindered me from being able to see the designated places where I was supposed to stand. I knew that I had overstepped the boundaries a little bit, but I kept on dancing on that flat stage. I did not worry about falling off or my shortcomings. I just danced.