I have been missing the luxurious act of cuddling up with a good book. I think doing this is important for my mental health. So instead of waiting for an opportune time, I decided to make time. And as with potato chips, I couldn’t stop. That first day I read for about 5 straight hours. It was wonderful. (For those bibliophiles out there, I’m reading The Feather Thief, by Kirk Wallace Johnson. Highly recommended!)
It was wonderful, that is, until the eye strain kicked in. Ugh, what a miserable feeling. I finally had to stop and rest my eyes for several hours. I wouldn’t have had this problem if I had bothered to look at something in the distance every once in a while. But I was too busy book-binging to even consider that.
You’d think my eyes would be used to this brutal treatment. I’m constantly staring at a computer screen or at my phone. Looking up and away every now and again should come naturally. It used to. In fact, I started writing this blog based on the things I would see while gazing out the window at work.
When did I stop looking around? When did my world become so compact? What have I been missing, just a few yards away from the end of my nose?
More and more, we all walk past each other, our tiny little horizons barely intersecting. There’s so much out there that we no longer see. Our world has shrunk, and yet we are under the illusion that it has expanded as we zoom through cyberspace. But when’s the last time you fed a bird? How many rainbows have you missed?
Look up, dear reader, look up! (Well, finish checking out my blog first. But then, look up!)
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