Mixed Metaphors and Bright Lights

As I get older, my vision gets worse.

It usually isn’t an issue, but driving at night has become a challenge. I’m not sure when I stopped seeing well at night. I don’t remember it being a problem when I was a teenager. In fact, I loved driving at night—windows down, music blasting, wind whipping through my hair. 

But now, I just squint through the barrage of oncoming headlights that seem to grow brighter and brighter every year, their starbursts overwhelming my field of vision with knives of glare that cut away the road. 

Last night, on my drive home from writer’s group, I lost sight of the road for a moment.

I was rounding a bend on a narrow, two-lane street when the pavement in front of me vanished. There were no reflectors, and the blazing headlights and street lamps and spotlights meant to provide guidance in the dark left me blinded. My SUV slowed to a crawl, and I carefully rounded the corner, barely able to identify the yellow median guiding me around the curve. 

After I picked up my grocery order, I started home, head pounding. The near-accident shook me, yes, but a migraine was beginning to build from the piercing beams as I cruised through town, back toward my home in the countryside. 

I drove further out of town, the oncoming traffic slowing to a trickle. After a few minutes, my eyes adjusted, and I was able to see the lines on the road once more, illuminated by the warm glow of my headlights.

As I get older, my vision gets worse. Or maybe I just realize that it wasn't that great to begin with.

Each year, I realize more and more how little I actually know or understand about the world. How naive I am about some things. How entrenched in bias I am on others. 

I was talking with a friend on Sunday about recent world events. How we’ve seen so many conflicting reports in the news—information breaking out in pieces before it’s assembled into a picture. How people are quick to share their opinions, even faster to condemn. And how social media is a swirling cesspool of raw emotions, prevaricators, and blowhards. 

When I’m spending a lot of time on social media, especially reading through the comment section, I get dragged into that sewer. It’s impossible to see through all the slop—it gets in your eyes and your lungs and fills your chest with dread. It distorts the world around you, cutting away the road ahead like those oncoming headlights. 

While an imperfect metaphor, there’s a lot to be said about how saturating yourself with social media, notifications, endless (and often half-baked) news articles, and constant stimulation can overwhelm your vision—warp your view of the world, magnify the bad and minimize the good. 

For the past five years or so, I’ve felt the way I did on my way home from writer’s group on Tuesday night—blinded. Despite living in a time in history where we have more information than ever before, I feel like I know less now than I did when I was younger (or maybe I was cockier then). The sheer number of opinions shared about any one topic is staggering, clouding your field of vision and making it very difficult to see what’s actually true.

So what can we do?

Breaking free of the technological chokehold is a good place to start. The average American spends three and half hours per day on their phone. Total screen time across all devices averages more than seven hours per day. This number doesn’t include work—it’s all entertainment-based consumption like watching videos/TV, scrolling social media, and playing video games. 

When we’re constantly stimulating our brains with new information, good or bad, we are limiting our lives to the boundary of a computer, television, tablet, or phone. It makes it really hard to see anything other than the hypnotic bright lights emanating from those screens. 

In other words, the road before us disappears, and we are blinded by everything around us. Until we reduce the distractions, the constant stimulus, we won’t be able to discern fact from fiction. So take a break from technology and get out on the open road. Go for a drive in the countryside or a walk without your cell phone. Don’t listen to a podcast or talk with someone on the phone. Just enjoy being present and rooted in the moment. 

I promise, your eyes will adjust. 

P.S., Before you worry too much about my vision, I have my yearly eye doctor visit coming up next month. In the meantime, I might invest in a pair of this stylish eyewear to help with my night driving. 😉