A Slice of Life on Friday Night

Early this evening I left my apartment to do well … something; I was not sure what.  I knew that I was bored and really just needed to have some kind of casual interaction with people.  I decided to walk to a bar I don’t like, primarily because it is close.  The bartenders are all attractive females which really is the only bonus in going there.  I drank one beer and as usual the crowd in the bar annoyed me.  I am sure that the patrons are all nice people, but there are dudes ordering vodka tonics and spritzers, come on, really?

 

I left and decided not to go to the grocery store.  I thought about getting that unpleasant chore over with, but it was rush hour and the traffic was crazy.  I did not feel like carrying multiple bags of groceries through two stoplight controlled intersections while dodging the random poles in the middle of the sidewalk, thanks for that Spokane. 

 

Instead I headed home.  As I walked I encountered a new obstacle, a sandwich board placed in the wheelchair ramp of an intersection.  I folded it up and set the sign off to the side.  Putting that sign there is illegal and I decided not to let that particular business, whatever one it was, benefit from their misguided advertising.

 

There are two driveways to my apartment complex.  I decided to take a shortcut and ended up getting very lost.  My complex is large and so I spent 20 minutes wandering through cars.  The shortcut that I had attempted to take was completely ill-advised as every building is offset from each other.  I misjudged my crossing angle and as a result I kept walking, and walking, and bumping into parked cars, and walking, well you get the idea.

 

A couple, I am thinking married, said hi as they got in their car.  I say married because a dating couple their age, early 20’s probably would have been too engrossed in one another to have noticed someone nearby.  Instead of asking for help I decided to play it cool and gave them an enthusiastic hi.  They drove off and I wandered on somewhat aimlessly.

 

As I made my way around curves and past cars and a motorcycle I felt very alone.  I thought that once I figure out where I am at I would go to a familiar place, but I realized that there is no place yet on the north side that “knows my name.”

 

 I finally decided to walk toward the sound of traffic which as usual was a good idea.  I figured out my mistake, tried the shortcut again, because I do not like to lose at something, and walked up the flight of stairs to my apartment.

 

Still feeling somewhat defeated and lonely I opened the door.  My cat greeted me by blowing past me like a wide receiver who just put a move on a cornerback leaving him tripping over himself as the receiver takes it to the house, Thanks Farrah I mutter.

 

For a moment I allowed myself to complain.  Why is everything that should be simple so hard?  What do I need to do to make more friends?  Why am I complaining about this when this is how life goes?  And the only actual important question: why did I not ask that couple for help?

 

Instead of asking I assumed that I would encounter another person and never did.  When I was saying hello to them I distinctly remember saying to myself, ask the next time you see somebody.  It is like when you see a really hot girl who talks to you but you are not prepared and you’re “A game” is nowhere to be found.  After she is gone you say to yourself, I will be ready next time.  Chances are though, you will never see her again and there is no next time, the future encounter that you imagine is a meaningless scenario played out over and over again in your mind.

 

As people, blind or not, we struggle with asking for help.  Sometimes I am good at asking, other times like tonight, I pretty much suck.  Still I refuse to let my somewhat self-imposed rough early evening dictate my mood or life.  I think that I will catch the bus and head downtown.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtA7YIFapnY

Musings on Blindness and Art

Being blind is truly interesting. Yeah I know that is not an awesome opening sentence, but it is hard to find the words to express what I am trying to say. So interesting seems like a good enough descriptor for me. The reason that I think being blind is interesting is because sometimes those of us who cannot see may think we know the world around us, but in reality we actually may not know as much as we think we do.

Today as part of Leadership Spokane I participated in a walking tour of pieces of art scattered throughout downtown Spokane. There were murals, statues, paintings, modern art pieces, and even benches that are more art than places to sit. The thing is, I had no idea that these things existed. There are islands in the middle of intersections with statues for example, I had no idea!

Even though I have minimal interest in paintings, sculptures etc. the tour was very enlightening. As I reflect on the art that exists downtown that I was previously clueless about, I now pose the following questions. What else is out there in the world that I go by every day that I am completely unaware of? Are there cool things in existence that I am missing out on since I am not able to see? And what things do I experience that people who can see never get to enjoy?

This is why blindness is so interesting; you live in the same world like everyone else but oftentimes from a different vantage point. And this is not a bad thing by the way. There can be a lot of challenges living with vision loss, but today reminded me that one of the joys of being blind is the adventure of the great unknown.

An Unexpected Gift

I have not posted a blog in a long time. There are reasons for my lack of blog entries. For one thing, I find it hard to come up with something new to say. I also wonder if what I have to say is beneficial or is my writing about a topic of life just useless noise. Some things that I would like to explore in depth surrounding Christianity, blindness, human behavior, or culture seem unsafe to put in a blog space. My lack of writing though is directly correlated with where I find myself psychologically. I have been working on changing some things about myself. The results are not always obvious, but this is a self-improvement project that I started once I moved from Indy to Spokane.

On occasion, I go back and read blogs that I have previously written. The last time that I reviewed my own ramblings I was troubled. Many of the things that I blog about, like loving one’s neighbor, being a good steward of God’s resources etc. I am horrible at living out. I am a hypocrite!

This point was further driven home by what I witnessed on the bus the other day. I was sitting in my seat engrossed in a podcast. I did not want to talk with anyone; I just wanted the bus to hurry up and get downtown in time for me to make my transfer. A woman that I have seen before on the bus sat across from me. Another guy that I did not recognize sat beside her. This woman is not a good conversationalist. She appears unfriendly most of the time and I find her not to be very approachable.

On that day though I witnessed the most amazing thing. As my podcast played on she started talking to the guy next to her. I pressed paused and listened. The woman asked the man how he was doing. He said that things were not going well. She became expressive, empathetic, encouraging, and noticeably lifted this dude’s spirits.

Wow, I thought to myself, what kinds of things go on that I do not know about since I usually am focused on my agenda instead of the world around me? What was happening across the aisle was beautiful and I almost missed it.

People talk a lot about the Advent season being a time of great anticipation; anticipation of the coming Messiah. I saw that anticipation from the guy sitting across from me. I saw the love of Christ in the woman beside him. I witnessed a small component of God’s redemptive plan in action.

I went home and asked myself the following questions. How am I spending my time? What have I done for God’s kingdom lately? I am certain that you will be shocked, but I did not like my answers.

It is hard for me to write about things when I do not live them out myself. If I write about the ills of mega churches and surface Christianity, but get trashed in a bar myself, I am as surface as what I am railing against. A hypocrite. I could have not shared about my blatant hypocrisy, kept writing about things, and maybe it would look good in cyberspace, but in truth my words would be hollow and empty.

This Christmas season I have been given a great gift in the form of a wakeup call while riding the bus. If I am not willing to walk the talk, than I simply need to shut up. It is time for me to fully engage the world around me. To truly go out of my way and love my neighbor well and put my selfish motivations aside. The opportunity exists for me to spend my time outside of work more productively and to use the meager resources that I have more effectively. The question is am I willing to do it? If you happen to be like me, are you willing to do it? I recognize this Christmas season that I have been given the gift of a choice. I can try my best to lead a life of substance and authenticity, or I can live a primarily superficial life. The first option is difficult and rewarding, the second easy and unfulfilling. It is my hope that as 2012 comes to a close and a new year begins, that I can live my life with more purpose and become more who God calls me to be, instead of living a life of useless noise like a clanging gong.

Blindness Plus Airports Equals Disaster

In my opinion as a blind person, there is no worse place to spend time then by yourself in an airport. If I am with a person who can see things go fine. Sometimes I am lucky and have a good trip through an airport, but usually if that happens an experience akin to what hell must be like will soon follow.

This last week I traveled to Baltimore for a conference. The plane ride out there was no problem. Things went fine on the way back, that is until I arrived in Seattle and had to catch my connecting flight to Spokane.

A co-worker helped me get my bag from baggage claim and took me to the airline counter. I had to switch airlines and so I was forced to reenter the airport. After I checked in the agent took me over to purgatory, this is where people who need assistance wait for an unknown length of time in order to get some form of misguided help.

I waited, waited, waited, and waited some more. I kicked myself for not leaving and going to a nearby barbeque place that was recommended to me, but the desire to get home overwhelmed my appetite for good food. A guy came up and mistook me for someone else who needed assistance. Another person came up and tried putting me in the usual wheelchair. Still a third guy came up and grabbed me attempting to push me down in yet another wheelchair. I stopped him and sternly told him that I don’t want to be a jerk, but I am tired, hungry, and the only way that this was going to work was if he actually let me take his arm. Apparently I wasted a lot of energy because the guy spoke very little English. A supervisor saw the standoff and convinced the guy to let me go sighted guide.

We went up to security and even though the guy was trying, the prospect of leading a blind guy through the metal detectors seemed a bit much for him. After getting myself through security he took me to my gate. He told me that I must stay there. I indicated that I would like to go eat. The guy refused. The agent at the gate told him to help me get food.

By this point I was stressed, mad, and frankly I was not sure that I could maintain my composure. He agreed to take me to get food. I said that I wanted something cheap. He takes me to Wolfgang Puck’s, but he can’t tell me what restaurant it is. What is this place I asked, as my guide seemed to disappear into thin air. Sorry I said to the person behind the counter as I turned to find my guide.

Dude, I do not want to take out a second mortgage, can you please tell me where there is cheap food! Again we walk up to a really great smelling restaurant. It’s Anthony’s a pricy seafood place. After apologizing to the people behind the Anthony’s counter, I ask him to find someone who speaks English who works at the airport. He finds a woman who gives me a rundown of what restaurants are nearby. I decide on Wendy’s and after she showed the guy helping me three times how to get there, I finally arrived and ordered my combo meal.

By this time, we had spent 50 minutes trying to find food; I almost missed my flight. As I arrived at my gate, my assistant gladly left me so another guy could take me the disability way to the plane. This involved walking outside, by a plane, through some other place where luggage seemed to be, and in all we walked about a quarter mile before I got to the plane. Obviously I have no problem walking, but that is the most absurd route to take a person with a disability that I have ever seen.

I literally ran up into the plane. The flight attendant asked me how I was doing and I told her that I just wanted to get the hell out of here because the people in the airport are incompetent and they stressed me out.

I am really pleased that airports employ so many people. There are jobs of all types and for people of all walks of life. It does seem odd to me that in spite of the obvious interview process that everyone goes through to get a job, airports seem to put the most unqualified people in positions of helping individuals with disabilities.

I felt bad for the guy whose job it was to help me. He did the best that he could but he totally should have some other job at the airport. Guiding a person who is blind requires communication skills that he did not possess. Even though I made my flight and got some food, the whole experience was ridiculous and exactly what I was hoping for after traveling all day. Oh well, airports are not going to change and I have to fly again soon which means a misguided adventure is lurking out there on the horizon.

Finally, a Sense of Peace

Fear in some form or another is something that we all face from time to time. Yet I know as a follower of Jesus that there is no need to fear. And while that is true, human nature often wins out and we, well at least me anyway, end up struggling with fear, anxiety, and uncertainty.

It is no secret that when I look back through all of the blogs that I have written, various topics seem to come up over and over again. That is life it seems, we experience similar feelings or emotions but in new situations. These experiences help refine us and challenge us to grow in our faith.

As I have written before, moving causes a great deal of uncertainty. In looking back over the past five months there has been a slow, almost imperceptible shift in how I approach life. Without recognizing it until recently, I have begun relying on myself instead of on God. It is pretty easy to do actually. You find yourself in unfamiliar territory and you need to make things happen. You can look at your life, resources, and what you need to get accomplished and sometimes you see no legitimate way to reach your goals.

It kind of reminds me of watching batters face Cincinnati’s Aroldis Chapman, the Reds closer whose fastball tops out at over 100 miles per hour. Often he would come in in the eighth or ninth inning in a close game and blow the batting order away. You could tell that many players wanted no part of a triple digit fastball. Stats back up my point. He averaged almost two strike outs per inning pitched.

My point is that with so much change over the past several months I have taken my eye off the ball. While I do not think that my lack of focus has resulted in me failing, it is an issue that I am working on correcting. The two biggest things that cause me fear are the potential of not succeeding and loneliness. When you transplant yourself across country, both loneliness and the prospect of failure are challenges one is bound to encounter. The primary way for me to address fear is to spend time in prayer, reading, and sharing life in community. I have done all of these things but only recently did I find community in a local context. Without a sense of community it can be difficult to be as consistent as I would like with prayer and reading God’s word. Of course, those two things are my responsibility, but they can be hard to do when you feel tossed around like a piece of driftwood in the waves.

As surprising as it might be, I am actually excited about writing this blog. Over the past week I feel like God has invited me to rest and put my focus back where it should be, on following Jesus. Jesus tells us not to worry in Matthew chapter six; and John reminds us in 1 John that there is no fear in love. I do not need to fear. As Solomon reminds us in the early chapters of Proverbs, do not rely on your own understanding. My focus seems to be shifting back where it should be and I have all that is necessary to find success and live well in God’s eyes. Even now, while things are not perfect, I look forward to the future with hope, great optimism, and a lasting sense of peace.

The Possible Great Adventure

One of the random fun adventures that I hoped to embark on once I moved to the Northwest was to fly to Portland or Salt Lake City to watch the Indiana Pacers play. Even though I could not compete for a seat in Area 55 this year, I thought that would be a quiet yet fun way to be a part of cheering for the Blue and Gold. After road tripping to Milwaukee for a game last spring, I also kind of like going to enemy territory and supporting my team. Sadly, unless I can psych myself up to overcome the logistical nightmare that I will encounter, my grand idea will be like a Dwight Howard free throw attempt, a complete failure.

I know nothing about Portland or Salt Lake City, so figuring out a good hotel that splits the difference between arenas and airports would be my first challenge. Getting a ticket is not a problem, there are ticket brokers; expensive you bet, but totally doable. Of course, I would have to hope that the arena staff would not hold it against me cheering for the road team as I would need their assistance in finding my seat. Finally there is the money issue. It would cost a chunk of change to carry out this Hoosier Hysteria adventure.

It would be great to find a Pacer fan out here in the Northwest who could join me, as it is always more enjoyable cheering with others. Since that is highly unlikely, or that I would even be able to find such a person to join me, I will either go it alone or watch from afar from here in Spokane. Maybe I am worn down from moving and adjusting to a new city, but I am not sure that I have it in me to make my idea a reality. Or maybe, I have somehow lost my edge and I have become less bold. Regardless as basketball season approaches, this idea has gone from a distant possibility to an issue that I need to make a decision about in the next couple of months.

While it appears unlikely that I will actually make the trip to Portland or Salt Lake City, the opportunity to connect with home, wear my Roy Hibbert no. 55 jersey proudly in hostile territory, and support my favorite NBA team is compelling. History also suggests that I may impulsively actually do this. After all, I went to three Pacer playoff games in college on a whim making the commute from Evansville to Indianapolis. I guess the only real thing that I am certain of is that I will be cheering loud and proud from Spokane as Danny, Roy, and the rest of the Pacers seek to win the Central Division, challenging the Bulls and Heat for a shot at a trip to the NBA finals. And just maybe, I can be a miniature road version of Area 55 when the Pacers make their annual trip out west.