Behind The Torn Iris
My vision is 20/15 in my left eye. It is around 20/200 in my right.
At the age of four, I was helping my father build a fire in our living room fireplace. We had organized a bundle of twigs and branches gathered from outside. With one final shove I smashed the mass of different layers of wood into the darkness. A single branch engraved a downward diagonal tear across my right eye, as if an angel, or a demon, had guided the branch to strike in the most impeccable position, ripping the iris, scarring my cornea and altering my vision for the rest of my life.
I underwent a barrage of surgeries and eye training exercises, something someone in their golden years of life might expect to experience, not a four year old boy. Most of the time I was ordered to patch my good eye in order to retrain my damaged one. I attempted exactly this, though I would try to create a little hole on the edge of the patch to see the outside world. Unfortunately, this caused me to tilt my head, a dead giveaway that I was peaking. The world around me became blurry, like I was suddenly held under water. I could tell what things were, make out some of the distinguishing features of people faces , but their definitive details were lost and only a fuzzy, dismembered image was allowed through into my visual cortex. With the outside world cut off for a time, I began to turn inward. It was in these days that I first started to explore inner space, the metaphysical reality, the infinite darkness where nothing can become something. I began to develop my imagination like most children do, exploring my subconscious, sometimes without a life preserver to pull me out, and as time went on, existed within those constructs more and more.
A decade and a half later, I underwent another eye surgery where doctors sewed up my iris and removed a loose lens implant. After the surgery, I remember marveling at the job that had been done, noticing that instead of a tattered, exposed hole within my eye, there was now delicate iris tissue reconnected, forming the shape of an infinity symbol.
Until biological material can be grown on an ultra complex scale or we as a species can design, create, and implant artificial eyes, I will see the world, behind a torn iris.
Behind The Torn Iris is a blog about the ideas and observations that I am lucky enough to have experienced.
Silent examinations found within the wilderness.
Illuminating revelations from psychedelic odysseys.
Implausible thoughts while trapped in some commute.
Arduous failures endured.
Conquered victories from trials undergone.
Had the branch’s course been altered, striking fractions of a nanometer in another direction, I would most likely possess 20/20 vision in both eyes. But that is not what happened. Some would say that the event that took place that day is a blessing, others would cry curse, I say both. Strengthens can be seen as weaknesses and gifts can become burdens. Their true identity lies within the perspectives of each individual.
These are mine.
Thoughts & Observations
“When I die, don’t bury me amongst those that wish to never be forgotten, where they entomb themselves amongst the living. Take me to the mountains and distant shores, where snow drifts and rain falls, so that I may live forever.”
~ Coltyn Seifert