Out of Focus

The first thing I do each morning is start the coffee pot. That, of course, is only when I don't set it up the night before. Truth be told, I rarely bother to do that. I'm a morning person, and so at night, I drop everything and fall on my face. Clothes, dishes, shoes, books, papers...whatever. I leave everything where it is and give up. I'd rather spend the 20 minutes then cleaning up from the day before in the morning than doing so at night. At night, I'm tired.

But the first thing that I do when I get up is drink coffee. I make too much and start drinking it slowly. Early. I light a candle, crawl back up on my bed and sit for a while. Having only my journal, an Ultra Fine Point Sharpie (I'm a little obsessed with Sharpies, so yes, I journal with them), my Bible and a pencil. I'd use a Sharpie in my Bible, too, but they don't work so well with the thin pages.

It's there that I start my day. It takes a while. I love being awake. Waking up is up is miserable, but being awake early is my favorite.

While I journal and read and pray and forget that the world is ahead of me for the day, everything is blurry. I have yet to put on my glasses or contacts. While I walk around the the kitchen and survey my bedroom floor, it's all a blur. I can't see what needs doing or what's left out from the day before. The temptation to turn in my computer isn't there because I can't see the screen clearly enough to type without an uncomfortable squint. I'm not completely blind, but when everything is just a little bit blurry, I ignore my surroundings.

I couldn't help but wonder this morning - a rainy Saturday, when the first things on my to-do list is to clean the kitchen and do laundry - that it's nice to not notice what needs doing. And why is that? You see, before I put on my glasses and look around, there's nothing to do. There's no lists, there's no concerns and there is nothing out of place.

And even more so, I couldn't help but wonder how much I look at the world like that. I only see that which is right in front of me and can ignore everything else. It takes too much effort to truly see.

When I notice the world, I have to do something. Just like when I put on my glasses and the dishes in the sink suddenly stick out in my path of vision. And doing something about it is a pain. I don't like to do the chores in my own house, let alone in the great wide world out there. It makes me wonder...what opportunities am I missing simply because I fail to see?