Glasses - #4

Hey, beautiful beings with a million passions!

I know I wrote to you a while ago about finding beauty in unfinished things, embracing the nonfinito, and celebrating the journey rather than just the end product.

And I still stand by that.

However, today, I want to write to you about something that might seem contradictory at first, but bear with me. It would all be worth your time. 

It's been what? 

I dunno.

Maybe 22 years or so since I was told I was nearsighted and given my very first pair of glasses.

This super chill doctor (who by the way, was the nicest woman ever) softly scolded my uncle for not bringing me in sooner!

Turns out, not seeing the blackboard or anyone's face for that matter from a stretch wasn't normal at all!

You see, everyone had always thought that my standing right in front of the teevee to watch my favorite cartoons was a nasty habit I had picked up somewhere. 

It wasn't until my teacher sent a report to my mum that anyone, including me, began to think otherwise.

The note read:

“Brilliant kid but doesn't copy her notes…” (ghen ghen)

At this point, feel free to insert your favorite dramatic music here.

Ah! This wicked woman wanted to put me in trouble with my very African mum.

Well, you probably guessed what happened next?

A full-on family intervention was held in my honor (uncle, aunty, siblings, all present) and for the first time, I blurted out those dreadful words, “I can’t really see the blackboard!”

Before you start wondering why on earth I’m writing to you about my Coke bottles (my sister, Kay’s, silly name for my dense lenses), let me share this. 

I know firsthand the pain of shortsightedness.

And I’m not just talking about the literal kind.

As multipotentialites, we often deal with a different kind of shortsightedness—the kind that keeps us fixated on what’s right in front of us, while the bigger picture stays a blur.

We’re so full of beautiful ideas, dreams, and passions that sometimes, we get so caught up in our bubble that we fail to see the great number of people beckoning on us, waiting for that idea, dream or passion to come to light, so they can build on it or be transformed by it. 

We jump from one project to another, driven by excitement and curiosity, without thinking long-term. 

We start great things with enthusiasm but abandon them when something new catches our eye. 

We invest time and energy into multiple pursuits but often end up with a collection of unfinished projects, not one of impact. 

This kind of shortsightedness can be just as limiting as the literal kind. 

It’s frustrating, and it can make us feel like we’re not making any real progress.

If this sounds like you, then like me, maybe it's time you admit to yourself that you can't see the big picture (no judgments, here).

Acknowledging our nearsightedness doesn't mean we can't find beauty in unfinished things. Of course, we can still embrace nonfinito and celebrate our beautiful journey.

However, we also need to be aware of our tendency to get caught up in the immediate and make a conscious effort to balance our focus between the present, the future, and the fundamental reason driving our passions.

While God doesn't always reveal the what(s) or the how(s) in full, He clarifies the why.        

Mary knew the why of Jesus (that He would save His people from their sins) and when she didn't fully understand the how or the what, she trusted His journey. 

I digress to make a point.

The reason for your incessant dabbling might be a lack of clarity on your why. 

While it's okay to dabble in different things we love, we must be weary of dabbling without any commitment or plan for impact whatsoever. 

Growth might not be linear, but it is still a walk of impact.

Similarly,

the reason for your lack of confidence in the many detours of your journey might be because you can’t see the big picture.

Joseph the dreamer clearly saw his big picture and no matter what crazy detours awaited him, he stayed confident. It turned out really beautiful for him.

Back to my story…

Putting on those glasses for the first time and realizing what I’d been missing made me cry. Life all of a sudden became a lot more colorful.

Just like admitting I couldn't see changed everything for me, acknowledging our shortsightedness is the first step to overcoming it.

I know it’s not easy to do, darling, but I also know that when you find the courage to do it, it’s totally worth it.

I guess what I've been trying to say all along is…

• Don't let myopia trip you up or distract you from what truly matters. It's easy to get caught up in the details, but don't forget to see the forest for the trees. Keep your eyes on the prize even when the ride gets bumpy. Your long-term vision is worth fighting for. 
• Don't be afraid to admit you are nearsighted. Use it as your reminder to step back and see the big picture. Because when you do, you'll find that your zigzag path isn't a series of random detours, but a rich, interconnected journey towards a beautiful story.
• Remember why you started. Your "why" is the fuel that will keep you going, and it can help you prioritize, focus, and follow through on your passions in a way that’s sustainable and fulfilling.
• Embrace the zigzags still. Every detour is an opportunity to learn and grow. Don't be afraid to take the scenic route. Just question each route a little bit. 
• Be kind and patient with yourself. Overcoming shortsightedness takes time, discipline, and self-awareness
• And most importantly, remember that you're not alone. We're all in this together, navigating our own zigzag paths towards our truest selves.

I hope this heals and helps you on your journey.

Always remember: shortsightedness might blur the present, but it doesn't define your future.

Until next time,

Love, light, and zigzags,

Deborah Keremah-Dickson

P.S. Don't forget to share your thoughts and insights with me! I'd love to hear how you're navigating being a zigzag!

While you are at it, give my smile permission to bring warmth to your day.