I've heard many a person say "I'd rather be hung by neck and fed spoiled, rotten porridge than be blind". My mother comments how if she couldn't see the smiling faces of her children every morning, or see the the gorgeous birds around her frolicking and chirping about, she wouldn't want to live. My father says a life without eyes is a life with no work; A life on the streets. My younger siblings mock and ridicule those who cannot see, saying that they have to be mentally retarded or some sort. Though, I don't share their beliefs.
Being blind, I see many advantages behind it. To exemplify, it is much easier to concentrate on one thing, allowing you to be able to learn much faster, and therefor being much smarter than the rest of the human population. Furthermore, the lack of vision gives you the lack of awareness of differences between people, making you non-judgemental with appearances, and also leaving you with a clean heart, innocent mind, and pure acceptance. Another useful advantage about being blind is that you people are generally kinder to you. A lot of times, they help you more and give you more kindness than they usually would to someone who had vision!
Though... I would like to see the sky, and see what blue is. I would like to see the sunset, and all of it's shades of red, orange, and pink. I would like to see the smiles of the people I love and that love me, especially the face of my mother, of which was supposed to be indented into my brain since birth. But what I would like to see the most... The wind...
I love the wind. I love the feeling of it brushing against me like a warm embrace, stroking my cheek and laying chaste kisses on my cheeks. I love the feeling of it on warm summer afternoons as I lay on the soft, ever so lively grass in the middle of our field, letting the wind hover over me like a blanket of shade. I love the feeling of it in the winter, nipping at my cheeks like a loving mother disciplining her son: Slightly aggressive, but with a sort of gentleness that consumes love in its core. I especially love it in the spring, when it carries the faint scent of the cherry blossom trees, and the farewells of a harsh winter that ravages and loves. In the spring, the wind is so vigorous and wonderful, billowing wildly about in a sort of dance, letting you know that the punishment is over and it is time to begin again.
I want to see the wind and all its glory.
