Blurvana

   One of the definitions of Nirvana is a transcendent state in which there is neither suffering, desire, nor sense of self. In Buddhism, this state of nothingness is a blessed relief from the karma/reincarnation cycle. I, however, am not Buddhist. And though I want to be free from suffering, I think loss of desire would make life meaningless and loss of self would be dementia. Not my idea of heaven. Fortunately, this blog is not about Nirvana, it is about Blurvana. That is the state in which I am now living. Since I made up the term, I get to define it.

   Blurvana--the interocular interval between cataract surgeries in which the implanted lens can no longer focus through the glasses upon which the untreated eye is still dependent. I would like to transcend this state as quickly as possible. Since I chose lenses that will allow me to see up close without correction, I wake up with the ability to see with amazing clarity my messy hair, age spots, and every speck of dirt in the shower. But, since part of the first week post surgery protocol is not bending over, I don't have to feel guilty about not cleaning it. I'll have to come up with another excuse when the week is over. Following that first focused look at my fading looks, the rest of the day is a blur. 

   My left eye needs correction for both close up and distance. My right eye needs correction for distance, but not at the same strength as my current glasses. To misquote scripture, the right eye cannot say to the left eye, I don't need you. And the left eye cannot say to the glasses, I have no need of you. Though Blurvana does not qualify as suffering, I am not free of it. And I am certainly not free of desire. I desire to see ASAP. But my sense of self does not include wanting to see me. I want to see things like the book I am trying to read, the TV, perhaps even oncoming traffic. For now I must view in the same way they do cataract surgery--one eye at a time. Then I can transcend Blurvana.