Now I See

Sometimes we have to be blind before we can see.

At a Children's Museum in Tel Aviv, we walked through a pitch black maze for an hour and a half being led by a blind man. With his calm, reassuring voice, our blind guide took us through several rooms simulating actual locations  that the "handicapped" might experience.  We walked through a "city park", crossed a "crowded street" with traffic, I even purchased a beer and a bag of peanuts at a "bar",  all in total darkness.

With the lights on, the whole place was probably the size of a small apartment.

With the lights out,  it was utterly frightening...yet I was spiritually moved.

I have acute claustrophobia, you see. I know, I know. It's all in my head.  But for me, the effect is very, very real. Rapid heart beat. Instant perspiration. Panic. The feeling you will claw your way through a brick wall just to breathe again. It's terribly embarrassing and sometimes debilitating. Sheer darkness can bring on the phobia too. So when they brought us to this experiential exhibit at the Children's Museum, I was nervous.

Before entering the abyss, a nice young lady who spoke very good English gave us a rundown of what was about to happen.  She explained that upon entering the maze, we would slowly walk into total darkness and 'see' exactly what a blind person sees...absolutely nothing. She also said we would soon hear the voice of our guide, to listen for him so he could tell us what to do.

She was right.

Within moments we were in the dark; my panic was in full swing. My heart pounded, my palms perspired, I was ready to scream. Ready to run.

But where would I go?

Unable to navigate, I stood by the wall and breathed deeply. Calmly. Slowly. You will not die...

And suddenly, it came...the voice that would lead me through the wilderness ahead. My guide was here!

Mier is blind from shortly after his birth due to a lack of oxygen in his preemie incubator.  He will tell you he has no handicap and to not feel sorry for him because he knows no difference. His life is as normal and happy as ours.

For the next hour I grow to realize that Mier is right, that he, in fact, sees more than I do. I follow him like a sheep follows the shepherd. I trust him because he knows what he's doing and I don't. I am deep in his world when it dawns on me that what's happening to me is intensely spiritual. I see the parallel and by the time I exit the maze I am in tears.

We end the tour in a black room...the 'bar'...where we sit with Mier and ask him questions. Anything we want to know he will answer. He tells us his age, a little about himself, and offers to introduce himself in the light as we walk out of our mutual blindness.  Everyone in the group is anxious to accept...everyone but me.  It's a disadvantage for him I am not willing to accept.

I've already seen Mier.  He's beautiful.  And my soul thanks him for the gift he has given me. The renewal of spirit, sanity and trust.

Thank you, Mier. Thank you, God.