Part 5 - The art of being blind
“Kindness
is a language which
the blind can see and the deaf can hear.”
Anon
In this series so far, I have
written about the need for
order and organisation, perceiving colour, hearing people’s
voice signatures
and touching everything in order to feel the world around me.
I have shared the
way my physical senses work overtime allowing me to fit into
sighted circles,
revealing the little tricks I have crafted along the journey
towards blindness.
Among my collection of tools are
four qualities that I
recommend to any person embarking on the profession of blind
artisan. No matter
what the obstacle ahead, I can guarantee from personal
experience four
attributes that will help you meet any challenge – and come
out smiling! The
next four posts will explore each of these qualities in detail
(I am
not giving away all my secrets at once).
“I
have never had clarity. What I have always had is trust.”
Mother
Teresa
TRUST – whenever I have trusted in
the kindness of others,
even total strangers I meet on the street, something amazing
happens. Seeing my
white cane (or guide dog), people become extremely helpful.
Suddenly, I am not
a stranger in the street, a possible threat to their safety,
but, rather, a
person they feel they
can trust. So
they reach out with compassion to inquire if they can assist
me.
Trust is letting go of control.
Young children do this very
well – they trust every need will be taken care of, they trust
when they launch
into thin air that their parents will catch them, or that the
sand beneath
their feet is soft enough to take their fall.
But letting go is one of the
hardest things for sighted
adults to do. I have observed this defiant reluctance when
presenting talks and
getting my students to walk around in pairs with a blindfold.
Panic strikes in
dubious minds, limbs freeze in fear. The concept of allowing
another person to
control their mobility, even if for only five minutes, has my
entire class
walking like zombies.
Being a typical Taurean by
nature, my family will tell you
how infuriating I can be when my stubbornness to do something
for myself makes
them feel powerless to help. But there are times when I trust
myself to do a
task even if it is slower or seems ridiculous, and then there
are times when I
have to accept my visual limitations and let go of controlling the desired
outcome.
Then, the obstacle, whether it be
a physical one or a mental
one, becomes a challenge we meet together – the letting go
enables a sense of achievement
for both of us.
So, with the many obstacles I
face as a vision-impaired
person, to trust another’s judgement on my behalf and trust
their capacity to
carry out my desire brings a genuine connection to
another kind-hearted
soul – even if I have never met them before.
I trust I will be handed the
correct change when paying for
something over the counter. I trust someone will guide me to
the front of a
queue and hand me a numbered ticket. I trust my young child
knows enough about
oncoming traffic to tell us when it is safe to cross a road. I
trust the taxi
driver won’t take me the long way around to my destination in
order to boost
the fare. I trust the person on the
train has told me approaching station's mane correctly: and I trust the kind voice of
a stranger
offering to guide me to the lift in a dark and secluded
building is being true
to his word.
When one can’t rely on sight, one
learns to rely on trust.
Try Paw-Wheel Driving
If you find trusting another
human being for safe mobility
difficult, consider the trust required when working with a
guide dog. To any
onlooker, the interaction of a handler and their well trained
dog can appear
casual and confident. The reality for me during my first weeks
of training with
Nev in 2000 was a major lesson in trust and good humour. Praise him and don’t panic was my motto.
So hold on – and come with us as
we relive that first public
walk: and let Nev take us paw-wheel driving, destination
Unknown.
The big day came when we climbed aboard the
Guide Dog
minibus. Five obedient dogs, five anxious handlers and two
confident trainers
all set off for a secret destination to carry out our first
‘real’ walk in
public. A burst of giggles then silence swept through the bus,
our loyal dogs
quietly lying by our feet. The engine whirred down a few gears
to a complete
halt and the trainers briefed us on what was expected next.
I felt like someone waiting in the back of a
sky divers’
plane about to jump out into the vast unknown. The sliding door
opened and a
trainer announced the first ‘victim’.
“Jonathon.” Our trainer spoke confidently.
Jonathon would be
fine, he was the pro in our group training with his second guide
dog.
I sat back into the vinyl seat, my hands
straying over Nev’s
coat. My canine companion looked up at me as my trembling
fingers toyed with
his velvety ears like holding onto a comforting teddy bear. A
few minutes
later, the sliding door opened again.
“Are you ready, Maribel and Nev.”
Nev sprang to his feet, bouncing towards the
door as he
guided me down the two steps. Once on the footpath, I tried to
organise my
guide dog to take up position on my left. Nev fidgeted as I
untangled the leash from
around his front legs, my fingers fumbling with twisted leather,
with a hot
doggy-tongue licking my flushed ear.
“Ready?” Peter asked. Nev and I continued in a
nervous dance
on the pavement. “Sometime today would be good,” he added, arms
crossed, amused
by our comic capers. I took a deep breath and nodded. This was
it.
My task was to walk with my guide dog through
the local shops
of Fairfield
to
the end of High Street without colliding with any objects along
the way. Peter
would follow behind at a distance in case we got into any
unexpected difficulties.
Moment of truth – trusting my guide dog completely
“Forward, Nev, find the way.”
Nev lunged forward skipping first gear. I felt
his body
swerve to the left and my feet followed suit. We cruised past
curious stares
and a hushed silence fell on the street. A rush of heat burned
into my palms
trying to keep a firm but calm grip on the harness as we stayed
in perfect step
in the spotlight of our first public performance.
Swerving this way and that, we glided as one
past every
obstacle on the street.
“Good boy. Find the way.” I encouraged my
pilot keeping
verbal commands clear. A thin ripple of a smile broke free on my
tense face.
Everything seemed lighter, easier, as I stayed close on the
heels of my guide
dog.
An unexpected feeling of playfulness put a
lighter spring in
my step, Nev
and I continued our effortless flight down the street. He really
knew what he
was doing.
Nev
walked a few inches ahead, my shoulders letting go of tension as
I adjusted my
moves to follow his. He showed such grace and skill! Emotions
swelled within me
as I could hardly believe we were trotting together in
effortless harmony and
passing with flying colours!
As Nev pulled up by the end of the kerb, he
threw me a glance
as if to say, ‘We’re here.’ I bent down on one knee, buried my
quivering lips
into his soft coat and burst into tears, whispering, “My dear
Nev. We did it.”
Peter sprinted to our side. “What happened?”
I stood up slowly, wiping away the moisture
from my eyes,
“Nothing.”
“Why are you crying then?” Peter sounded
completely confused.
Overwhelmed, I spluttered, “I can’t believe
Nev just did all
that for me. I’m so proud of him.”
My trainer’s voice lightened. “Oh, good grief,
Maribel, is
that all?” He touched my shoulder and laughed, “I told you to
trust him. He’s
your guide dog, that’s what he’s trained to do.”
“Trust
is letting go of needing to know all the details before you open
your heart”
Anon
Next post: Discover another
key and unlock
the tool kit of the blind tradie...
© 2013 Maribel
Steel
3 comments:
LOVE this post. Will be sharing! Thank you!!
Thanks Becky, happy to hear you enjoyed it. By the way, we have redesigned this blog so that people can subscribe via email so to make sure you get my next posts,feel free to join in this way. Happy reading! Maribel
Dear Maribel, tears are falling down my cheeks....having known Nev and loved him, I still, for the first time, felt, what it must of been for your to trust him....for both of you, and in dear memory, that was a wonderfully deep feeling! great writing and well done both of you....love, bee xox
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