Lifting the Veil of Caution

All my life I have lived cautiously. Definitely not one to be the adventurous one. You would often find me hanging back in the crowd, avoiding a challenge. Never the first one to volunteer to jump into the next daring experience. It felt safer that way. I have managed, in my 64 years of living, to accept that safer is okay.

The diagnosis of myopic macular degeneration I received in 2019 "threw a monkey into the wrench." This was a change in what I perceived to be a safe way of living.

Nothing was certain anymore

The unknown quality of life that I was given definitely messed me up. My definite path was disturbed. No longer was anything certain. I had no clear idea where my path would end up. Do I accept the safer route? Avoid trying new things, going to new places? Hide behind a veil of caution where I knew I would be okay?

Initially, yes – this is where my mind went. I felt that if I kept myself in my safe little bubble, I would be okay. It did not take me very long to realize the errors of my ways.

MMD was not going to take over

I had read a quote by Theodore "Teddy" Roosevelt. He said, "Do what you can, with what you have, where you are. Believe you can and you're halfway there. It’s hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed." These words opened up my closed-off thoughts.

This myopic macular degeneration, while a very negative aspect of my life, was not going to take over.

Taking an art class with low vision

I, very early on in this diagnosis, signed up for an art class, renewing a passion that I had long let lay dormant. While it was clearly out of my safety zone, once I took that first step into that classroom setting, I knew I was going to be okay. I do have to make adjustments to truly be able to work with the mediums, but that is okay. Creating new things fills a part of me. Using bright colors and defining lines gives this troubled eye (only one!) a run for its money.

Realizing I was good enough

Early on in this art-creating journey, someone reached out and wanted to purchase a particular painting I had completed. The "cautious-me" was very skeptical. Did they really want to buy this? Was it really that good? I feared it was a "pity purchase," if you will. After some frenzied behind-the-scenes conversations with my immediate family and friends, I was convinced that they really wanted to purchase my creation.

Thus began my confidence-building. I was good enough. My work, created with an eye that struggles with MMD, had true merits. Since then, I have sketched, drawn, colored, and painted so many things. Some works are okay, and some are pretty amazing if I do say so myself, but the real crowning achievement moment is what this path has done for me. It has shown me that by putting myself out there, I prove I can do it. Therein lies the true success. Thanks, Mr. Roosevelt, for putting it into words for me to live by.