New Eyes Come With Time

I’m talking with my daughter when I notice a grimy film over her glasses. It’s so bad I can only assume a giraffe has licked them and then rolled them in the dust bunnies under the couch.

“How can you possibly see through these?” I ask.

“What?!” she protests. “They’re not THAT bad!”

I clean one lens and hold up her glasses so she can inspect the difference. Amazingly, she can’t distinguish dirty from clean. I put them on her face.

“Now I really can’t tell with them so close up.”

I am immediately reminded of what life looked like in my first year of sobriety, versus now, almost eight years in. In those early days, I didn’t yet have the time to know just how good things could get, how much clearer they’d be, how much more I’d be able to see. I thought improving to “not that bad” was the same as “really damn good.”

But with the perspective gleaned from battles won, promises kept, old knots untangled and time passed, I began to understand how sweet “good” actually is. We see that we are able to stand back–not just with distance but with wisdom, too.

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes,” Proust said. Those eyes come with time, I promise. Keep going.

Recent Posts

What If You Are the Example?

A few years ago, when I’d reached the point in the book development process when it was time to match epigraphs to chapters, I was thrilled. Every writer’s dream, right?! Yes, I was thrilled… but also overwhelmed. With so many great lines from books that had absolutely changed my life,…

Read More

The Value of Journaling

When thoughts and feelings demand to be heard, unpacked, and nurtured, my go to is a hot date with my journal. Like therapy, writing is most helpful when habitual and not just a fury we unleash in crisis mode (although there is great power in that release, too). Writing is…

Read More

When Addictive Behaviors Make Us Feel “A Little Bit Crazy”

Oh, man. Here’s a thought that hits home. I had the most vivid image during a therapy session last week: Little Becky, maybe six or seven years old, standing in the middle of a circle, absolutely terrified. Around her stood all the inner parts who seek to keep her safe….

Read More

Want email updates and inspiration?

A sporadic love letter from me to you with insights, happenings, homework, and the occasional kick in the pants.

This field is for validation purposes and should be left unchanged.