Perspective

I hate glasses.

This being said, I'm now the proud owner of a pair of stylish, relatively attractive glasses in a coppery color I'm especially fond of. At least, the people in my life claim that the small bit of torture has all of these attributes, and I agree for my peace of mind.

I wore them today for the first time, and immediately noticed that, near the edges of the glasses, colors take on new dimensions. Sharp angles have yellow hues, and small washes of rainbow light quickly flicker in and out of my conscious vision if the angle of the sun is perfect. It's disconcerting and slightly vertigo inducing at times.

I was walking through Hickman, trying to navigate, looking geeky, I'm sure. There was a tall girl with short brown hair standing there, chatting, and I stopped near her to rummage something out of my bag. I'm ashamed to say that my first impression when I noticed her was, "She's not very attractive."

I know, I know. I'm not exactly a paragon of feminine beauty either, but in my mind I summed her up and dismissed her.

But my glasses had other ideas, and those darn rainbows flashing from her smile caught my eye and turned me around. I looked at her, then. Really looked. Like I haven't done in a while.

It's funny how, when you see somebody's soul, it's...how do I describe it? Even mine, which I know so well, is difficult to capture into words, and this stranger's soul is even harder. But it was genuine and genuinely happy, caught in her open and easy smile. Made me wonder why I'd ever thought she wasn't beautiful. And I'm wondering how many people I've looked at lately and dismissed into a catagory, stuck in the morass of my blind snap-judgement, my half-hearted efforts to put aside my prejudice and see people's potential instead of their wrapping. When did I stop looking?

Wayward rainbows can be a gift.

I still hate glasses.