I remember the moment vividly. A stunning, jarring moment, of truly perfect vision.
It’s one of those things you won’t forget as long as you live, seeing clearly without glasses for the first time. I was riding my motorbike through rush hour traffic, 11AM on a nice, sunny day.
I’d been wearing a -1 diopter lens for the past 4 months. I was still a total noobie in the scheme of things. It took me a very long time to get to a -1 from close to -5 and a bunch of astigmatism, without any guidance or experience. But here I was. A -1 lens was all I needed.
I wasn’t wearing the -1, while riding. (don’t recommend you do this)
Traffic was at a stand still, three lanes going each way. This was my first time riding without glasses. I’m not sure now in retrospect why I did it. I didn’t know the 1000 lux 1 diopter rule then (in BackTo20/20 for you, so easy to do). I didn’t know the 100 day 1/4 diopter rule yet. I didn’t know that I was ready for it. I just didn’t feel like putting the glasses on right then.
And the whole ride there was double vision, the way you’re probably familiar when your vision is right at the cusp, when you need that 1/4 diopter reduction already (100 day rule!). Plus it was really bright out, well over 1,000 llux (1,000 lux, 1 diopter rule).
We were stopped at the traffic light. It was hot. Dozens of motorbikes. Heat waves from the asphalt. Everybody wanting to get out of sitting in the sun, anxiously waiting for the green.
And there it was, the green light. I got off at the head of the pack, a long stretch of empty three lanes, before we’d catch up to the gridlock closer to the next light. I gunned it, playing my usual little video-game style race with myself: Try to hit 100km/h before the next pile of traffic.
And there it was, the stopped cars ahead. I glanced down at the speedo. 85. 90. 95. I was going to make it to 100km/h, but it’d be real close to the cars by the time I’d hit the mark. I’d still be quite at some speed then, by the time I’d have to split the lanes, race through the narrow gap between lanes and standing cars. But that’s what made riding in the city fun, pushing the luck just a little.
The moment I hit 100, I was already heavy on the brakes. Front disk, rear drum, trying to shave off a few km/h as fast as possible. The cars are right up in front of me. I pick the widest looking gap and go for it. And that’s when it happened.
Perfect, complete, clear, super sharp vision. I can see every speck of dirt on every side view mirror. Every pebble on the road. Still at a good 70km/h, a mad, insane pace through stopped traffic, everything slows down around me. I don’t want to blink, don’t want the moment to pass. It was a truly weird feeling, seeing perfectly. I wanted to reach up and touch my face, verify that there was no lens in front of my eyes.
And then the moment was gone. Good vision yes, but all the ever changing double vision artifacts.
I pullinto the parking garage just ahead, the place with my favorite coffee shop inside. I’d done it. For the first time since I was probably barely in my teens, I saw the world in perfect clarity. No glasses. I’d grabbed the supposed genetic, forever illness by its non-existent scruffy little neck, and I’d shaken it until it was just gone.
Up until that day I still used a very small minus for close-up. But when I opened my laptop in the coffee shop I left the glasses in the bag. I didn’t need them anymore. Knowing this seemed to be enough because sure enough, the screen glowed back at me, perfectly clear.
And that’s story of my first time of perfect vision.
I can’t adequately relate to you, how monumental it felt, such as seemingly small thing. I didn’t know how much of an impact that moment would have on my life. I’d jumped off cliffs and mountains, I traveled the world, I learned a half dozen languages, I made a million dollars. I’d taken LSD and eaten magic mushrooms and gotten lost in the desert and had visions of the universe.
None of it really had a profound effect on me the way that perfect vision moment did. It was the only moment until then in my life, that I knew I had to share this. This was the one thing I ever done that mattered, and I wasn’t going to just go back to everyday life without making something of this personal perspective-on-life changing experience.
I was happy to explore possibilities with a few people every month, and I’m just as happy dealing with this as an Internet thing today. And if anyone will ever remember me for anything, it’ll be for this. It’s not mine, I didn’t invent it. I discovered it, like probably many before me. I want you to discover it as well. Hopefully one day a whole lot of us will meet up somewhere, having this one amazing experience in common. Having seen the world around us, in all of it’s magic, without any lenses, any surgery, with just our own wits and perseverance. It’s your own personal highest mountain peak or race record, but even better.
And if this made you a bit sniffly (like it did me, think of that day), then you’re a d*mn hippie. ;-)
Cheers,
-Jake
