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Writer's pictureShana Ritter

Spinning

Spinning

It is a little over a month since my last piece. In that time the world has turned green, the peonies have opened and gracefully bent their scented weight to the ground and I have had my second eye surgery. It was not as simple as hoped, but it wasn’t filled with drama the way the first was. In a sedated haze I heard the surgeon say suture, another suture, another suture and lost count after six. There were ten when there were supposed to be none.

This was just a week ago and my eye is healing, It will take some time and some patience with a blurred world, but this time it is not tinged with fear. That has made all the difference.

I think about how fear limits what we see and how well we listen. It influences how we perceive what in in front of us, what we hear and what we believe to be possible. Like driving with no windshield wipers in a pouring rain, fear distorts. It becomes all too easy to miss the car in the next lane, the upcoming curve, the shadow of a deer. There’s no vanquishing fear but there is a way to turn into it, the way I was taught to drive when sliding, to turn into a spin and then slowly turn back again.

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