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Don’t Stay Blind

When I was a child, I was not a waif. Nor was I a glamour queen. I had braces and glasses and the occasional bought with eczema. In other words, I wasn’t perfect. And in case I ever forgot the horror of that, there were plenty of bullies around to remind me.

Eventually, the braces and the eczema went away. The bullies discovered the juvenile justice system. And someone came up with the idea to slice up people’s eyes with lasers to make them see.

That laser thing…that was amazing! I could see my alarm clock upon waking, I could swim without running into things, I could walk down the street and distinguish my friends as more than faceless blobs. And I had an epiphany.

When you can see, you have the power to rule the world.

But then, the sands of time started screwing with me.

Suddenly, one day, I noticed that there was a mass conspiracy. Restaurants started printed their menus in micro fonts. Street signs had some sort of magic dimmer switch that activated as soon as the sun went down. Books acquired an internal darkness that sucked ambient light out of rooms.

Basically, I couldn’t see a damn thing. My omnipotence was being threatened! And when I queried friends and Google and WebMD, they all offered up an explanation for my predicament so terrifying that I turned a blind eye to their advice. I would resolve this mystery on my own, damn it.

I. Need. Help.

Three simple words, aren’t they? I don’t know. Yet, I’m continually amazed by how difficult it can be to confess to those three simple words. And then how, without fail, those same three words, once voiced, have the power to liberate you from your boogieman self.

Yes, I finally went to the eye doctor. And she laughed, giving me the same explanation everyone else had offered. “Age,” she said.

“This is what happens when you get older,” she continued. “You need glasses.”

Oh, my ego! It just curled up with a whimper.

And isn’t that often what keeps us from asking for help — our ego?

We don’t want to be discovered as weak or lacking or inexperienced. We don’t want to be imperfect.

But we are human. We are mortal. It’s that very imperfection that makes us so. And it’s a beautiful thing!

You know what happened next, of course — well, after the pouting, railing against the god and queries about insurance coverage, that is. I got glasses. For the first time in 15 years, I was back to being “four-eyes.” And, lo and behold, I could see!

Turns out, there was no conspiracy amongst restaurants and street signs and books near ambient light.

And the frames I picked out made me look like a glamour queen.

We all spend so much time blindly bumping into obstacles when there are three little words just waiting to be used: I. Need. Help.

The lesson here never gets old, in business or life: when you ask for help, you receive it and problems gets resolved.

This is at the core of my business — helping people get clarity about their needs and resolve the problems that keep them from reaching their goals — and I know, first hand, that the asking is the key.

You must ask yourself if you’re really ready to see. Only you can answer that. It’s the hardest part. But the view is spectacular!

So tell me, how are you using those three little words to keep from staying blind?

with pleasure,

Emily Lewis




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{ 4 comments… add one }
  • Maisie March 12, 2015, 16:17

    Well… this one hit the heart hard! One of my main struggles in life has been extreme independence. There have been times when I’d almost go hungry or spend 17x longer than necessary to figure shit out rather than actually ASK for help. Oh, the horror!

    I’m only now learning that asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness, but a sign of being smart.

    Good one, Emily!

    • Emily Lewis March 12, 2015, 16:33

      You are not alone, Maisie, and I’m so glad this resonates with you. In a culture of independence and “do-it-all,” this is such a real struggle for so many of us. Courage, chica, courage! (for us all 🙂 )

  • Beth March 12, 2015, 18:12

    Oh funny. I just increased the resolution so I could read the font on someone else’s website. It’s not me, it’s their font size! I actually think your conspiracy theory is correct. (Denial is my friend. It’s part of the process, right?)

    • Emily Lewis March 13, 2015, 14:39

      Oh hell yes, Beth, denial is definitely a step in the process. So happy you can relate to the font size issue!

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