Seeing is believing.
This phrase has become increasingly uncomfortable for me of late. It seems ironic, or oxymoronic. I think the intended meaning is that if one sees something for themselves, then that thing’s veracity can be verified. In other words, if I just told you something, you may think I’m lying to you, but if you can see for yourself what I told you, then you know what I said was true.
Did you catch that?
Since you saw it with your own eyes, you KNOW what I said was true.
Sooooo, shouldn’t the saying be, “Seeing is knowing”?
We’ll come back to that in a bit….
Earlier today, one of my clients – a really good-natured, albiet sometimes goofy high school junior – answered the door wearing a left-over eye patch from his pirate Halloween costume. “Arrrrrgh matey,” he groweled. I just grinned and shook my head as I walked in, already handicapping in my mind what the chances were that he’d be able to focus at all today.
“That’s a good lookin’ patch,” I told him.
“I know this,” he nonchalantly replied. He then proceeded to tell me about how he was bringing the eye patch “back,” as if it used to be a trend in the first place, and that I should get on board with it now so I don’t look like a poser later when everyone else is wearing them.
“I’m way ahead of you,” I told him.
“What do you mean?” he asked me.
I hesitated for just a second.
“I wore an eye patch like 7 years ago…who do you think started that trend in the first place?” I asked. He laughed a little, liking that I was playing along. But he could also see that I wasn’t just joking, that there was something serious about what I said.
“Wait, what do you mean?” He asked through his laugh.
I gave him the short version of the story how several years ago, my retina had begun to detach and that I had to have surgery on my eye – while still awake (but heavily drugged) – and how weird the sensation was to see a surgeon cut into your eyeball while still awake, and not really feel much and that the drops I had to put in my eye post-surgery kept my pupil dialated for several weeks and because of that, I had to wear an eye patch whenever I was outside during the day because the light was too intense.
“No way!” He thought it was the weirdest thing that I had to be awake during the operation. He wanted more details and I indulged him for a few more minutes, wanting to encourage and maximize his suddenly expanded attention span. “Can you see out of that eye still?” he asked. I assured him that I could, that the surgery was successful, and that within 6 months of the surgery, my vision in that eye was fine. He seemed pleased with the story, and we pivoted his attention to other, more academic endeavors.
What I didn’t tell him was that those 6 months of recovery were rough. The progress was slow and frustrating…and to suddenly only have use of 1 eye for months was as much a mental adjustment as it was physical. There were times when I wondered if my vision would ever return to normal, or if this would happen in my other eye too and compromise my vision altogether. As the weeks wore on, the small, intermittent restlessness of not knowing gnawed at the back of my mind. The not knowing was almost as hard as the recovery.
Then one day, for whatever reason, it just clicked. For me, during that time when so much was in question, so much was unsure, there were only two things I could do: take care of the physical health of the eye, and think positively about getting better…in other words, abandon the search to “know,” and embrace the capacity to believe. It wasn’t true that “seeing is believing,” but instead, “believing would lead to seeing.”
Believing and knowing are two different things, that I think sometimes get confused. Seeing isn’t believing, BELIEVING is believing. Seeing is knowing, and that’s great, but not the same thing as believing. Belief implies faith, and faith is, to me, the best part of being human. The capacity for faith – faith in God, faith in medecine, faith in a surgeon’s hand, faith in each other – is a gently magnificent quality that serves purposes both material and ethereal. Faith is not only what brought me peace of mind as I recovered, but it is also what compells me to believe in and seek the best in those around me. And while the work we do, the actions we take as a result of that faith inform and honor its meaning and value, the faith itself – especially in the form of devotion to one another – reflects our ever-expanding capacity for good.
I am grateful for the capacity to believe, to have faith; and I am inspired by the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
From Left to Write 