Blind Leading the Blind
A FEW MONTHS AGO, I KNEW I NEEDED SOME HELP. A few major issues had cropped up for me, and while I won’t go into them here, it was clear I had a blind spot. Actually, I had a few blind spots, and I wasn’t willing to let my Achilles heel send me the way of Achilles.
So off I went to therapy, and the process is proving invaluable to me. From getting off antidepressants to experimenting with new ways of dealing with a wider range of emotional frequency, my weekly 45 minutes on the couch with “John” is money and time well spent.
The experience I’m about to describe occurred after I left one of those early sessions. I felt high in the same way I do after exercise: energized, clear—more present. Even the colors of the world seemed to vibrate more intensely. The sky was gray and thick with electricity, and I patiently waited in traffic at a red light. And on one of those rare days of spring in L.A.—it started to rain.
In this brief moment of clairvoyance, I saw him.
‘He’ was a white male, about 34 years old, waiting for the crosswalk on the corner of Gower and Franklin—a very busy intersection—especially for pedestrians. At first, I noticed his gym towel slung dutifully over his shoulder. It was easy to see he was on his way to work out at Bally’s, just down the street. Then, I noticed he was grasping a walking cane—its end painted red. He was visually impaired.
Flash to my thoughts: “Why don’t I have any energy?” I’d just spent the last hour openly bemoaning to my therapist. “Why haven’t I wanted to exercise for the last six months? I’m a trainer for Chrissakes!” John listened patiently, then quietly suggested I might open a gym membership or even — imagine! — hire a trainer for myself.
The light turned green, and my eyes darted back to the street corner. This surreal image of a blind man standing in the rain on the corner of a busy intersection in Hollywood—gym towel in one hand, walking cane in another—brought tears to my eyes and it resonated with the same electricity up my spine as the air that day, thick with thunder and lightening.
I have not missed a day at the gym since.