The Journey Continues
This is the final installment of my blog series Vision: A Journey
And so we reach the end of this blog series, but not (I hope) the end of my journey! I know I will continue to follow the path illuminated by my inner vision and I look forward to seeing where it takes me. I am learning to focus on the journey itself, and not the destination.
New Low Vision Tools
As my vision has continued to stay fairly stable, I have worn the same glasses and magnifier necklace. A few years ago on a trip to New York, my magnifier necklace broke and I lost the magnifier as I went through airport security. I was terrified. How would I survive in New York without my trusty necklace magnifier?
Then I realized I might find a replacement, and started searching on my phone. I found a large electronics store about six blocks from my hotel. So after I had settled into my room, I set off to find this store. It was enormous, and seemed to be run by Orthodox Jewish men wearing black hats and coats. I asked the first person I saw where I might find magnifiers and was directed to a counter further back in the store. The man there showed me a small black magnifier that needed batteries. He was not very helpful, even when I told him I had low vision. So I took the magnifier to the long checkout counter and found a woman there who was more helpful. She pointed me to the batteries, and I bought the magnifier along with the batteries. I asked if she could help me load the batteries, but she said she was not allowed to, and directed me to a tech help desk of sorts. There, another kind person opened the package for me and inserted the three tiny batteries correctly, making sure the magnifier worked. I was elated. Although this new tool did not dangle from a chain on my neck, I could keep it handy in my purse. And it worked so well that I now have several around the house. I use them all the time, as they work even better than the magnifier necklace (which I replaced as soon as I returned home).
Prior to my last trip (before COVID), I went to the low-vision optometrist at the Phillips Eye Institute, where I learned about some new devices that I purchased and have found very helpful. Both are electronic video magnifiers (and expensive, but worth it). One is small enough to put in my purse and use to read a menu. It has even helped me read and fill out the immigration form required for entering Mexico, which I had to do when I traveled alone. A second, larger, magnifier fits nicely over parts of a cookbook to read a recipe or over part of The New York Times Book Review. Although it is inconvenient to keep these devices charged, they allow for different levels of magnification, can freeze a frame as needed, and even change background color for more contrast.
Also, before COVID, I treated myself to a larger, brand new iPad. I use it to watch movies from my lap, which works really well. It also allows me to do a little reading on Kindle when I cannot find audio versions, although I can’t do more than a few pages at a time. During the pandemic this iPad was invaluable, allowing me to take Zoom yoga and fitness classes, as well as enjoy Zoom happy hours and gatherings with friends all over the world. Recently I upgraded to the newest, largest iPhone. It allows me to use an enlarged, dark font to more easily read text and email messages. I rely on ‘Siri’ to dictate most messages, but if I don’t review them carefully, there are many errors and sometimes even inadvertent profanity. All these devices require me to make sure I have room to carry them when I travel, along with the appropriate chargers. I am no longer a person who is able to travel with a light load. But I need to acknowledge how fortunate I am to be able to afford all these different tools and devices, which make my life so much easier.
The Camino: Finding My Way on “The Way”
Michael and I have continued to take hiking trips around the world, making new friends and exploring beautiful areas of wilderness. One particular trip that facilitated my continued inner journey was two years ago, when we hiked the last 100 miles of the Camino de Santiago, also known as St. James’ Way, the ancient pilgrimage route in Spain. After doing much research and reading several books about hiking the Camino, we felt ready to try at least part of the walk.
Most people walk this path alone, staying in hostels each night (as shown in the classic movie, The Way). We were not so adventurous. Actually, we were nervous about losing our way and not being able to sleep in the shared quarters of hostels. We also doubted our ability to travel with all we needed in our backpacks. So we decided to join a hiking group of 20 with an excellent and experienced guide. We stayed in nice hotels, and had rest days to do laundry, take a cooking class, or visit interesting historical sites. Over the 12 days of the trip we made wonderful friends to whom we are still connected.
The Scallop Shell
The symbol of the Camino is the scallop shell, which all pilgrims wear, usually on their backpacks. We had been given our own scallop shells at the blessing ceremony in Minneapolis, and they were attached to our backpacks and swung from a little red string as we walked.
The scallop shell is also represented in yellow on the many signs along the Path. It is understood to represent the Camino de Santiago itself, that is, the many paths leading to Santiago de Compostela. There are also numerous myths regarding the scallop shell and St. James.
On the first day of our walk, Michael bought me a little silver scallop shell to place on my magnifier necklace chain. The previous year he had bought me a bell, the symbol of the island of Capri when we hiked there, now also on the chain. I had later added a small silver charm of the Aztec calendar, symbolizing my love of Mexico. Now all three charms embellish my chain and remind me of these three places. But the scallop shell reminds me of that spiritual journey, and that it continues in my life today. It also beckons me to return and walk more of the Way.
My Spiritual Journey
For many people, the Camino is a sacred, religious pilgrimage. A few months before we departed, we attended a ceremony in Minneapolis where we were given a blessing and were inspired to learn and grow from our experience on the Camino. So above and beyond the great friends and beautiful hikes, I took the opportunity to explore my own spiritual journey as I walked the pilgrimage route.
Having recently read Viktor Frankl’s iconic book, Man’s Search for Meaning, I tried to look inward. I challenged myself to ponder what life wanted from me, and what my true purpose was. Many different thoughts washed over me, and I kept a small journal to (mostly illegibly) jot down my ideas. And one day, the answer came to me.
Walking this religious path that was particularly sacred to Catholics, I experienced the power and depth of my Jewish heritage. I felt a deep connection to my religion, and a call to do my part to keep the Jewish people alive. I had already raised Jewish children who were now raising my grandchildren as Jews. But I vowed to support them even more in their connection to our religion by providing financial support for all five grandchildren to attend Jewish summer camps and to travel to Israel, as my children had done. Michael felt as strongly as I did, and also agreed that we should try to be diplomats for our faith so that others could learn about our Jewish lives and beliefs. The goal was not to proselytize or convert, but rather to help people understand what it is like to be Jewish, and to see that we are not so different from them.
Over the years we have often been the “only Jewish friend” of people we know, who are surprised that we don’t keep kosher or follow Orthodox rules. Now we felt even more strongly that we needed to promote understanding and connection, talking openly with our friends and inviting them to observe Jewish holidays with us. A third commitment we made on the Camino was to explore the history of the Jewish people in each country we traveled to, to feel a connection to our people and their experiences as part of the diaspora. Since returning from the Camino, I find that I host the celebration of Jewish holidays with greater spirit and joy, making these observances special and memorable for our grandchildren and guests.
Reaching the End of The Way
Although we only walked the last 100 miles of a 500-mile pilgrimage route, we all felt jubilant when we reached the Church of St. James in Santiago. We felt stronger from the long daily hikes, enriched by the experience of the journey, and warmed by the friendships and memories created along the way. It was hard to say goodbye, and Michael and I immediately vowed to return the next year and hike the first 100 miles of the Camino. But COVID prevented that from happening.
However, the real end of the route extends farther, to the coast of Spain. This place used to be thought of as the end of the world — literally ‘Finisterre’ — and many pilgrims throw their clothes or boots into the water, symbolizing the end of their journey. We took a bus to this spot and Michael carried a bag with his worn hiking boots to throw in the water. It was a cold and windy day but we were thrilled to be at this end point.
My Place on the Journey Today
I feel very fortunate that I am comfortably retired, and am able to live a rich and full life, even without central vision. I cannot drive, but before COVID I became adept at taking buses, plotting bus routes on my computer and iPhone apps, and calling Uber quite often. I developed a walking practice as well, walking the 2.5 miles to and from my yoga classes three times a week. Of course, all of this changed in March 2020. But until then, I did become quite a bit more independent than in my early years of vision loss.
I have described the ways that experiencing vision loss has provided some gifts and silver linings. In addition, I think it has also helped me feel more compassion for others who suffer, whether from a physical or other type of disability. And when I go to religious services, or a study group at my synagogue, I no longer try to read along. Instead, I usually listen, and I find I am actually more engaged and focused this way, able to concentrate on the meaning.
It is still frustrating not being able to read, unless print is large and dark and written in block letters. Most handwriting is too difficult for me to read, even when enlarged, as are fonts like italic. It amazes me how many items come in the mail like invitations or handwritten cards that I cannot read. Most of the time I have Michael read them out loud to me. My sister is the only person who writes cards to me using print, in a dark black sharpie.
Finally, as my journey continues, I have been practicing the Jewish spiritual curriculum Mussar. Mussar involves the study and practice of soul traits such as humility, compassion, gratitude, and lovingkindness. It builds on the work I did at Esalen, and gives me a framework to continue examining my life as I work on improving my responses to people and events. I am forced to practice humility as I recognize that I cannot do all I once did, and all I want to do, because of my limited eyesight. I am better at practicing compassion, as I have a deeper understanding of many forms of suffering, loss, and disability.
Gratitude is something I practice daily, as I am reminded of all the gifts and blessings that have come my way, and lessons learned from my vision loss. And lovingkindness is a trait I try to use on myself and others, allowing me to practice radiating warmth, good will, and acceptance to all of us as imperfect humans struggling to overcome challenges in life. I think practicing Mussar helps me as I strive to strengthen and clarify my inner vision. Although “practice makes perfect” in skills such as musical performance, Mussar is an ongoing journey. I am repeatedly reminded each time I reflect on a situation or a reaction that reflected the need for more work on a particular soul trait. I hope it will be a practice that I can work on for the rest of my life, or at least as long as I have my cognitive faculties.
When walking the Camino, fellow pilgrims call out “Buen Camino!”
According to Alan Singer:
As you walk you say “Buen Camino” to everyone you see. “Buen Camino” literally means good road in Spanish, but it can also mean good path, path being both physical and spiritual. It is the greeting shared by pilgrims, hikers, and bicyclers on the Camino and also with local people who wish you well.
While hiking in Wicklow, Ireland a few months after returning from Spain, I heard a woman call out to me, ‘Buen Camino.” She had seen the scallop shell dangling from my backpack. As someone who had also walked the Camino, she wanted to share the memory and joy of that experience by greeting me in the traditional way. I like to think that as I continue my life journey, that greeting will stay with me and help illuminate my inner compass and keep me walking and finding my way.
Thank You!
So we have come to the end of my story. I appreciate all who have read about my experiences with low vision and my journey to learn from it and find my way in life. I am grateful for the warm and supportive comments many of you have sent or posted. When I set out to write this blog series I had no idea what I would say and how it would evolve, but evolve it did. And now, as it is ending, I feel a sense of relief and completion. I am also deeply grateful for the excellent editing efforts of my husband Michael, my friend Deborah, and my brother Stan.
Final Note: Helping Others Who Have Low Vision
I am aware that other people suffer vision loss and may not be aware of all the resources I have discovered and used. For example, each state has services for the blind; you can also access the National Library for the Blind and Print Disabled here. This library allows free downloads of hundreds of thousands of recorded books, right to your smartphone. I love this service, and usually have three books that I am reading concurrently, each on a different device. People suffering a new vision loss also may not be aware of the resources offered by low-vision optometry centers and occupational therapists. I discovered that I could also obtain reduced-rate transit passes due to my disability. Most of these things I learned on my own, and found that I had to advocate for myself. If you know someone who is losing vision, please share these resources with them.
