I am blind. “Darkness” and “black” are not words to describe what I “see.” In fact, a way to describe the nothingness my eyes give me does not exist. I simply do not. All my life, I have been denied from knowing the world through what you call “colour,” “dimension,” and “movement.” And, contrary to what many may think, I do not consider the absence of sight a “void.” It was just never there and so other things took its place.
I like to think my sister took the place of my sight. Not literally, of course, but it is a lovely thought. I would much rather have no ability to gaze on the world, than to lose her. For with her, I can see the world so much more beautifully than if I my own eyes were freed.
Her laugh, for instance, is entirely infectious and sweeter than any bells you will ever hear. It is all the colours I cannot see. Yellow, pink, and light blue (apparently that is the color of the sky?) are the colours her laugh paints when she is happy. She says those are “happy” colors. Reds and oranges - a stifled, angry, and sarcastic snicker. Deep blue, green - a melancholy sigh. Black - no sound. White (she says white is all the colours in the world together), so I like to think white is when she’s happiest, when the world is most at peace.
She is always moving. I cannot see it, but I don’t need to see movement to feel the energy it gives off. She loves dancing. And, no doubt, everything is brighter when she does - twirling and jumping around like she does. That wonderful energy and happiness is released into what I feel is a heavy, burdened world - giving it some hope, some rest in the midst of its struggles. And, swimming. She adores it and she is fantastic at it, I hear. I’m not surprised at all. I have been swimming a few times. The water certainly holds you up, yes, but if your spirit is not light and trusting, it will sink into the depths of fear - fear of the water, fear of the world, whatever. But it will sink. That’s why I know she is so good at swimming - her spirit is light.
She is an old soul, though. She laughs like a newborn and dances like a fairy, but her mind and heart are so much older, so much deeper, and hold so much more dimension than anything else in the world. She talks to me about books - how the older they feel and smell, the better they are. Old books are trustworthy books. Many times we sit and talk about God, heaven, philosophy and the patterns of our lives. She willingly takes up those discussions with the wisdom of an elder, yet the vigorous humility of a childlike heart. You want true dimension and depth? Go find her and talk to her about the world. Trust me, though I may not be able to perceive the depth of an ocean, I promise you she is even deeper than it.
So, I guess I really can see colour, movement and dimension... a part of them that most of world is blind to, yet which my sister helps me see.
The Happiest of Birthdays to my little sister today! Χρόνια πολλά, αδελφή μου! This specific writing is dedicated to her - an exercise in trying to describe her as if I was blind. I am thankful that my reality isn’t blindness, but I want you all to know that everything said about her is truly reality.
For the fantastic counterpart of this weekly themed creative writing project, visit: http://thebeatlesandblackcoffee.blogspot.com