Still seeing in the dark.

When My Colors Changed For a while, I found myself wishing my colors would change. Day after day, the same tones stayed with me, and even though they were beautiful, I began to feel tired of seeing the same thing over and over again. I kept hoping my other colors would get a chance to speak. So instead of fighting what I was experiencing, I tried something different. I relaxed. I let my mind become calm. I breathed. And I began to gently imagine other colors — not forcing them, not demanding them — just inviting them. And then something beautiful happened. As I slept, my inner world opened into a peaceful nighttime sky. There was a soft green glow, like a gentle moon lighting up the darkness. Around it were tiny sparkling yellow stars, shining quietly and calmly. Then the scene began to change. The green night slowly transformed into a warm evening sky — deep orange with hints of brown. Above it was a darker orange-brown sky, rich and calm, like the end of a peaceful day. Golden and or...

The Gift of Music: A World That Always Changes After a day of seeing the same color over and over again, I’m reminded of something that never stays the same — music. One of the things I appreciate most about music is the variety. There is always something new to experience. A different rhythm. A different voice. A different feeling. A different story. When my inner world feels repetitive, music opens a door. I am totally blind, but music allows me to experience movement, color, emotion, and energy in ways that are always changing. One song can feel calm and peaceful. Another can feel powerful and bold. Some music makes me reflect. Some makes me smile. Some lifts my spirit when I need it most. That’s what I love about it — music never gets stuck. There is always another genre to explore. Another artist to discover. Another sound that touches the heart in a new way. Music gives me variety when my sensory world feels the same.   It gives me freedom when my environment feels limited. ...

 Still Seeing Red It has been a long time since I’ve written here, but today feels like the right day to come back. All day long, from the moment I woke up this morning until now, my inner world has been filled with the same color — bright, glowing red. It hasn’t faded. It hasn’t shifted. It’s still here. I am totally blind, but my sensory world is very active. I experience colors, light patterns, and movement internally. Many people think blindness means darkness, but for me, my inner vision is alive and constantly changing. Today, though, there has been no change. Just red. At first, it was beautiful — strong, vibrant, and glowing. But as the hours passed, I began to feel something unexpected. I started feeling tired of seeing the same color over and over again. I found myself wishing for variety. I caught myself thinking: Can another color come through?   Can something new take its place?   Can the red step back and give the other colors a turn? This experience reminde...

What Connection Feels Like—for Me A Reflection on Care, Faith, and Shared Moments   Hot pink!! My favorite color!!   Today reminded me that some of the most meaningful moments in life are quiet ones. The hot pink warmth that has been living in my inner world stayed with me through the afternoon—and it wasn’t loud joy or excitement that kept it there. It was connection. My grandma shared some of her chili mak soup with me for lunch today. It wasn’t a big event. Just a shared meal, offered with care. It was simple, and it was really good. Afterward, I helped her with a few things around the house, not out of obligation, but because that’s what we do for each other. Care moved both ways. Later, she shared a gospel song with me. I listened closely—not just to the music, but to what it carried. Comfort. Faith. Familiarity. A sense of grounding that doesn’t need explanation. I realized then that I didn’t want to keep those moments to myself. I already share her...

An Afternoon Reflection from a Totally Blind Advocate I am totally blind. I have no natural eyes. That sentence alone often carries assumptions for people who can see. Many imagine darkness. Emptiness. Nothingness. But my experience of blindness is not empty—and it is not dark in the way people often think. In my inner world, what I call my mind’s eye , there is color. This is not something that happened overnight. After losing my eyes, my experience began with small sparks and scattered spots of color. Blues here. Browns there. Fleeting flashes that didn’t yet have meaning. Over time, especially after my right eye was removed in 2016, those inner sensations became more frequent, more fluid, and more emotionally connected. My brain adapted. It learned a new language. Today, that language showed itself again in a way that felt especially clear. After a quiet nap this afternoon, while resting and listening to stories on my phone, my inner world shifted. The deep orange that oft...

The Hidden Truth About Caregiver Burnout: When You’re the Only One Holding the Load Caregiving is often called an act of love — and it truly is. But it’s also one of the hardest, most exhausting roles someone can take on, especially when it feels like you’re doing it all by yourself. Since my grandma’s hip surgery in April 2023, I’ve been there for her every step of the way — through her recovery, her illnesses, and as she regains some independence. I help with the things she can no longer do on her own, like bathing, lotioning her back, and laundry. I do it because I love her. But every day, the “small” tasks pile up: bringing her ice, fetching water, reminding her to take her pills. Tasks she could do herself now, but still leans on me for. The emotional weight of caregiving isn’t always talked about enough. It’s more than physical labor — it’s the feeling of being the only one showing up, of carrying the load when others step back. It’s the exhaustion that builds up when you d...