It is a blessed thing to have color in one’s life. I’ve often thought (as you do when you are young) if I had to lose one of my five senses, please don’t let it be my sight. I would be devastated at all that I’d miss and I wouldn’t cope with it nearly as well as losing any of the other senses.
Losing the sense of touch would definitely be irritating, especially since I love to knit and I might find it more difficult to know where the needles stop and the yarn begins, but I could see it and I’m sure I could cope.
Losing the sense of smell would be sad, as so many aromas bring us viscerally to another time and place (kind of like a TARDIS) (but not) and who would voluntarily give up smelling a newly mowed lawn, a baby’s head, a freshly baked loaf of bread, a bonfire, or chocolate? But I could cope because I could see it and remember what it smelled like.
The sense of taste would probably be diminished by losing the sense of smell, but as much as I love food (and I really, really, really love food), completely losing the sense of taste just might get me some of this dang squishy extra poundage to take a hike. So knowing I’ve enjoyed so much over the years would be adequate compensation for losing the sense of taste.
As a music teacher, you’d think I would be devastated completely by losing my sense of hearing. (Insert my kids’ favorite joke here: “What?”) Alas, I am no Beethoven, and my livelihood would not be compromised by losing my hearing (“What?”) because though I am passionate about music and passionate about teaching, I would have the music inside of my emotional memory and that would have to make me content. In fact, once I had to get a rather lengthy MRI and while I was lying absolutely still in the long white narrow tube, I mentally listened to, read the score, and conducted the most recent concert offering of my school band. It was a novel way to stay occupied, I admit, but it worked and it shows that I have a memory of sound.
Sight, though. Oh, my, please don’t let me lose the sense of sight. There’s just too much to see and appreciate and marvel over and immerse in and express wonder at and relate to. Color is something I can get drunk on. The picture above wasn’t taken because I love the church or the religion or the symbolism (but the symmetry is pretty awesome) but because those colors reached out and grabbed me around the heart and I had to take them with me. Whenever I look at that picture, I am taken right back to the moment when I gasped in absolute pleasure and admiration.
Gosh, no tea or sarcasm. Sorry. It’s Monday, the sarcasm has taken the day off and the tea has gone to a happy place.