Just after I finished High School in Southern California, I travelled to Central California and due to extenuating circumstances I went to work in Construction. My plan was to build up a bank roll over the summer and then head off to college. My plan went awry. The events of that summer dramatically changed the course of my life.
One of those events was an injury to my left eye that would eventually leave me blind in that eye. I was bending a wire. That wire slipped out of my hand and pierced my eye. I tried to get medical attention but could not get anyone to take me. The next day I was able to get to a doctor. I was sent into surgery and my eye was stitched up. Over the course of the next year I was to have a series of surgeries. One of which left me blind.
While I was actually grateful for the fact that I still had one eye, adjusting to it was difficult. Having no depth perception caused difficulty in the jobs I was presently skilled at. As well as in driving.
I supported myself in high school. My parents had moved away and I didn’t hear from them for years. So I waited tables in the evenings after school and added in construction work on the weekends and any off days. These skill sets became difficult after the loss of an eye. Properly pouring an expensive bottle of wine in a fancy setting does not come easy without depth perception. I did learn, however, to move very slowly and find the rim of the glass by gently tapping it to make sure I had the bottle aligned. I was not so fortunate in figuring out a way to drive a road grader or bulldozer. Lack of depth perception eliminated those skills.
Driving became difficult as well. As I lived in the foothills, I was constantly on windy roads. The lack of depth perception combined with an increased blind spot made this a scary ordeal. I vividly recall on particular long corner to the left that had me clenching the wheel and gritting my teeth. I drove this each day and always dreaded it. I would concentrate on staying between the lines and cars would appear in my feild of vision. Seemingly out of nowhere. It was nerve racking.
One of my favorite past times had been running along the river. This was a remote area and for the most part there were no trails. It entailed a lot of climbing up and jumping off of boulders. I loved this activity for the mental concentration it required combined with the physical activity. It was an activity in which I could reach a flow state.
That activity was gone as well. Jumping off a rock when you cannot tell the difference between 5 feet and 50 feet is simply not a good idea.
It was in this period of my life that I began training in martial arts. This was an activity that depth perception was necessary as well. But since it was new to me I did not percieve the added difficulty of learning the art. I had no prior experience so nothing to guage it with. And since I am naturally stubborn, and at that time, not self aware, I just plowed ahead.
Looking back on that I’m sure I was pretty bad. I’m sure those around me probably laughed and shook their heads at my attempts to pull off a block. But my lack of self awareness served me. Thank God for Dunning-Krueger.
I plodded on.
Fast forward about five years.
At this point I had received my brown belt. I had trained hard. Never missing a day of training. I had immersed myself in Shou’ Shu’.