The Eyes Have It

Today's the day. Five years (at least, maybe more) since I got a new pair of prescription eyeglasses, and I'm going in. I know my eyes have changed. They told me so when I had a Diabetic eye exam in September. The news was good at that point (no signs of retinopathy or any other problems) except that my vision was blurred.

Well the blurriness is gone. I can see everything clearly (except for small print) without glasses at all -- just like before. So I said to my wife, "Why go?" and she said, "Because you're due!" She's better than me about things like that. Doing stuff that "needs to be done" whether you want to or not.

Without her at my side, I might not do a lot of things. Like attending birthday parties for my niece and nephew (which inevitably take up half of a perfectly good Sunday afternoon), or calling hours at funeral homes for people I've never met (but happen to know a coworker or extended family member), or weddings, or...well, you get the idea.

My wife is like my own personal Jiminy Cricket. (You know, Pinocchio? "And always let your conscience be your guide!".)

I go along, because I know that she's right. She's always had a knack for making friends and keeping them. She knows what people expect and how they interpret all kinds of behavior.

She taught me how to take an interest in others. To ask about their children/ pets/ homes/ activities/ disappointments/ joys in life, etc. People expect you to ask. They expect you to care. And when you do, they not only take it as a compliment, but they tend to like you more back. It's a reciprocal thing. And it works.

We all need help from time to time. It behooves us to gather as many allies as possible, wherever we happen to be.

I used to forget people's names almost instantly. Even after I'd seen them over and again. Because it didn't seem to matter. Out of sight, out of mind. It didn't matter to me, but it mattered to them. I just didn't realize it.

Another thing was eye contact. I used to avoid it pretty much. Not wanting to get too close, to feel their eyes scanning me, to think about how they must be "sizing me up" the way most people do the first time they meet. The whole thing gave me the creeps.

But it also put me at a disadvantage. Without eye contact, people could never really get to know me. Everything stayed superficial, with no growth in the relationship. Keeping everyone at arm's length, made them acquaintances (but not friends) forever.

I used to think "what relationship"? They're just somebody I know. But very few people have the ability to stay neutral. They either like you or they don't. And when the chips are down, when someone else has the power to influence your fate, nine times out of ten, it's better for them to be your ally. (You might say "The I's have it" -- the ability to make your life better or worse.)

Of course it doesn't always work. But it's worth a try.

I don't possess a lot of natural charm. I've never been very good at winning strangers over to my side. The key here seems to be "make sure they're not strangers for long". The more you get to know them, the more they get to know you and bingo -- you've found a friend. The more people you interact with from day to day, the more friends you need.

So now that I have Diabetes, I also realize that I share something in common with every single person who has this condition. I see the medication in their chart and think, "Oh my god -- just like me!" And it's a moment of revelation. I wonder how they're coping from day to day with all the same challenges and how it affects their view on life.

My doctor likes to call it a disease. He keeps saying how it's "wasting" away at my body. Sucking the life out of me. He sounds like a broken record. I don't want to think about it that way. I don't want to feel as if the clock is suddenly ticking toward my cruel and bitter fate. I'd rather think of it as something to be managed -- but a condition I can live with.

At least my eyes are finally back to normal. All I need is a new pair of glasses. (My wife just reminded me, again.) For two months at least, I had trouble. Wondering if my vision would come back.

As an artist (my inner self at least, long before I ever went to college) light, and color and motion (I've always loved movies) mean a great deal. It also means I can better connect with people. For a while, I feared my enjoyment of life might diminish.

Now they're back. The eyes have it -- and I, for one, am glad.