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WHEN IT ALL SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE BY LISA WAGNER
How to Make That Which Is Given to Us, A Divine Gift In 1912, Claude Monet was given a diagnosis of cataracts. Hence why his work in his later paintings shifted from cool tones of blue to warm tones of reds and oranges, reflecting his new perception of the world around him. In Lisel Mueller’s Poem, “Monet Refuses the Operation,” she speaks as if she is Monet, stating, “I tell you it has taken me all my life to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels, to soften and blur and finally banish the edges you regret I don’t see, to learn that the line I called the horizon does not exist and sky and water, so long apart, are the same state of being.” When something so seemingly impossible happens in our lives, it’s how we choose to move within that which is given divinely to us that will shape how we move forward with our new reality. Monet found a way to find beauty as an artist while losing his sight; something we artists rely heavily on for our profession. Degas and VanGogh also suffered from vision deficits yet produced the most beautiful and iconic work in the history of the art world. I had never really thought about this until just this week when my husband was diagnosed with a detached retina. He was unable to see anything out of his right eye, which was jarring for him and initially had him fearing the worst. I also began thinking about it from a vantage point of, “What if that was me? How could I do my art the same ever again?” Then, my friends’ daughter told me about Lisel Mueller’s poem. When I read it, it felt as though Monet really understood what mattered and how it truly can be a gift we are given during those seemingly impossible circumstances. 312
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I began to do research about other artists that may have had losses of vision, yet their work was better for it. I found that VanGogh suffered from a condition called xanthopsia; a vision deficiency that causes the patient to see more vibrant yellow tones. He also abused absinth and digitoxin (an anti-demetia drug used in that time period), that are thought to have contributed to his condition. What would his paintings of sunflowers, nighttime coffee terraces, hay bales, or his own bedroom be without those intense yellow hues? Or Degas, who lost most of his sight and turned to sculpture and pastels once he could no longer see his oil paints. We would have no ballerinas or beautiful, flowing landscapes that feel as if you are in a dream. My husband, while lying face down for days, has found a newfound respect for his sight and how it can be such a gift that those of us fortunate enough to have it, take for granted and never normally consider our lives without it. I’m sure this goes for so many circumstances we each face that have found us in situations of losing something we assumed would just always “be.” It fascinates me how little thought we put into the everyday tasks that have just gone on as predictably as clockwork. Who is to say it will be here in the next moment? I have yet to receive a guarantee for a single thing that’s ironclad. As we get older, we are gifted with the ability to know how fleeting everything is. That life just continues to march with or without our consent or even being alive on this earthly plane. It stops for no one. This march that beats its drum more loudly with each passing year or even day, is this odd little present we’ve received upon our entrance into this life. Without it, we would
never place appropriate value on all that is. The knowing that, like the changing seasons, nothing remains constant. We have a choice to make in every waking moment how it is we perceive what we have been living, seeing, touching and experiencing. Resting in this moment and extending gratitude for the good and the bad, allows us to live fully. We find our own resilience and our vulnerabilities that lovingly make us who we are. If we choose to grow from pain and loss, that which is good, suddenly shines more brightly, even if it isn’t fully in focus. We each have indelible memories that bring back sights, smells, emotions and contentment. It grounds us in the knowing of our own roots. These recollections inform us of our true essence. Our triggers are also embedded here. Loud footsteps or noises, tones of voice, “that look” that someone gave us; things that instantaneously throw us into a fight or flight mindset. The emotions they invoke can take us out of reason and put us into a state of panic or frenetic anxiety. We are unable to remember our peaceful selves that moments ago were blissfully unaware. If we know that we are clearly not in danger, we can choose to take a deep breath and notice our feelings and what this trigger is physically doing to us (rapid heartrate, hyperventilating, etc.). We can just sit and notice. By doing so, we are literally rewiring how we view a perceived threat to our well-being. We are teaching our brain that we are safe and all is well. That this too shall pass. Once we make it to the other side of fear, notice what is around you that brings you joy or a feeling of peace. Then relax into a place of deep gratitude. Your entire mindset will begin to alter its own composition to a place of positivity and quiet.
