Cash for Clunkers, Crops, Candy or Dunkers. Wiserly or Miserly?

Would you believe? Can you imagine?

There was a time when I had green eyes. But it is not what you may think. Thinking I had to change, alter, improve “Me” I embarked on a journey to change something about me.

My eyes. To be exact. What couldn’t I see at the time?

Wanna know what happened? I literally and figuratively scratched my own eyes out.

Ouch.

As the story goes: This is non-fiction. Actually happened. Why would I lie? IE. I am not kidding about this. In my youth, having just turned the legal age of eighteen (18). My older sister who was physically, superficially beautiful—all the boys loved her. Albeit, time would tell and prove she is a bonafide-ly crazy person. Pathologically a “one-upper”.

My sister and I and some of hers, her “work friends” we will call them. Aka the “set up friends” all went to a concert. I was eighteen, so it was legal and acceptable that I attend. I was excited as could be.

The entertainer was none other than Rick Springfield- He was a rock in’ rocker. We had played his music on the radio and records and could sing his songs by heart. I was ready to rock out big time. No. Not with an enhancer, if you will (drugs or alcohol). With something much worse.

I changed a look of mine that made me who I am. Me. You see, the beautiful sister—who all the boys loved—talked me into changing my eye color. I thought. Why not? Gotta catch up to keep up. Right? Or so I thought at the time.

As I often do. I learned the hard way, why not. I changed the color of my eyes to you guessed it: Green. And thus a green-eyed monster born. Green colored contacts was the new me. Or maybe it was really the deep down me, the green-eyed monster who wanted to be like my idolic sister—at the time my immediate older sister. I have others—and we all share the same eye color. Interestingly.

Anyway the music began and I was on cloud nine rocking to Rick with the older crowd—The “set up crowd.” I was feeling pretty something. Although to this moment, I am still not certain what.

The music and rocking began, but so did the smoke. And while rocking out with my new friends and my new look, a new green-eyed-monster was being born. Although, I did not see it.

No pun intended.

So. Instead of listening and hearing the music, the task of my itchy, scratchy eyes had to be my focus. I though, if I took the green contacts out, I could not see. As I left them in, I was itching and scratching like you wouldn’t believe. My sister and the “set up friends” went somewhere at the concert—I think it was called, at the time, “scoping the crowd”. Musta been fun, although I wouldn’t know because I could not see.

Anything. Anymore.

I had literally and figuratively scratched my own eyes out. But. Too young to grasp at or yet to figure out the significance of the circumstances. Hey, I was barely legal—just a kid.

I had a lot to learn.

When the sister and the “set up friends” returned, she noticed I was scratching a lot. I told her I could no longer see anything and had to get these new green-eyed monster apparatus/i that were stuck in my eyes out ASAP.

They were stuck to say the least. In that moment, learned what would turn out to be a significant life lesson. But in that minute, the green eyes simply needed/had to COME OUT. So we somehow got them out of my eyes. But then. I could not open my eyes. The pain was so great. Even crying hurt. No cleansing tears for me would help what I did. To me.

To myself. Based on a recommendation. From. Her.

So. the next day, I told my Father that I could no longer see and that my eyes were killing me. He walked next door—believe it or not—we lived next door to a family of eye doctors. Not kidding.

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Explained to the family what happened and politely asked the family if I could be seen at their office—if they could squeeze me in. Without hesitation, they said head right there. To their office, just “up the road”.

They examined me for a permanent problem, condition. None. Phew. (Other than the fact I felt I had to change me, my looks, by scratching the bee-geebers out of them) But that was a conversation for later, another time. A life long conversation mind you.

The doctor put some medical drops in my eyes, applied patches to them— both. Told to return in one week. I could not take the eye patches off except to apply my medicine. So. I was,

Blind for a week, so to speak. Not kidding.

Even as a youth, I was in some ways—“ahead of the game” and have spent a lot of time trying to share this with others. What I learned when I could not see. I gave up convincing them though.

It is not worth your time. Clearly, not theirs either. I learned. The ones who really listen will get it. Patience is a virtue and by the grace of God and my Father, I had learned from both.

So. Whether it be by contact or contacts, “cash” or “cashless”, check or checked, not handed over, or handed over—it is best to run the track, and stay on track before being tracked. Because

Huh?

What I learned from my week as a blind person is this:

I am grateful to see what I can see. The sooner you accept you, your flaws and your weakness. The better. The best. Mirrors are for weak people. Changing you just to change you is: Not right. In fact. It is: Wrong.

Posies are flowers. Not something to strike. Love your selfie before selling your selfie.

I was fortunate to unleash the green-eyed monster from myself. I did not really not like me, I was still growing and changing and “following the crowd” The sister crowd, The girl crowd. The this crowd. The that crowd. However you choose to describe it.

A blessing and a curse I found as time went on.

Let’s call it: People Management.

Nothing is free. Not even hard “won” fights or lessons. The best plan of attack is to not have an attack. Sometimes. Oftentimes. Most times. Many times.

Not even freedom. And yourself. And your “Influencers” will stop you from scratching your own eyes out.

Know that:

You can knock the green-eyed monster outta here. Off balance. Off the rocker. Off base. Or you can decide to. Just. Be. You. Warts and all. (Although you may want to seek medical attention on that one). Just sayin’.

You’re o.k.. “I’m ok.

Reminder: Please remember: The green eyed monster strikes while the iron is hot. Love yourself. Manage yourself. Manage your affairs. Believe in the you that is you. And together.

We got this.