Got my very first reading glasses yesterday after migraine has been killing me for an entire week.

If disability is an spectrum then most of us are already disabled. Not being able to read without glasses is immediately nostalgic. How I miss my old eyes!

It reminds me of the time when my tinnitus started and I could no longer meditate or walk in complete silence. Or that long lost time when I haven’t met a single psychitriast or taken a single pill and the world seemed so vibrant and clear.

Disability, no matter how small, sheds a peel of us, one that may never return. It launches us into limen until we get used to it and accept it as part of us.

And perhaps the scariest part of this is that it could happen to us anytime.

As a consolation, I think buying these reading glasses reminded me of the temporality of the body and therefore my time here on Earth.

One day I won’t be able to walk. So I shall walk as much as I can, while I still can.

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