I visited my ophthalmologist yesterday, and secured a good report from my annual glaucoma testing. The test consists of sitting with your face pressed into a contraption that measures your percent of retained visual field by the number of minute light speckles that you can correctly see and record by pressing a button on a small clicker. My eyes have remained stable for the last three years, thanks in part to some minor surgery that I had 2 years ago.
As I received my results, the doctor told me that I was definitely NOT a candidate for laser eye surgery, and that if anyone ever told me I was, to run. I don’t know why I’d ever see anyone but him, best eye doctor I’ve ever had. His prognosis was that my corneas were too thin for any type of corrective surgery, and that I need to be careful. “Your corneas are thin, unbearably thin.”
Unbearably thin so as to easily sustain damage from routine bumps and bruises that life can toss our way. This is also what has happened to our thought processes in the age of the internet, thanks Al Gore. We do not understand what it means to stand in the pocket and study a subject, conduct deep and meaningful personal study of a subject, take time to ruminate over a thing, not forming an opinion too quickly. Or not being too easily offended. We may look at some articles written by authors of questionable or non-existent pedigree, gather some opinions by those fear-mongers that seem to always fight their way to the forefront of YouTube, and then form an opinion within a few days, possibly a month. We have “conducted our research”, decided what is “Truth” on the matter, and moved on to the next glittering subject. We’ve lost the art of marinating in a subject, pondering it, dreaming about it, praying through it, and most importantly hearing the wise authors of long ago, understanding what the ancients have to say about a subject.
We are soft, easily deceived and offended, having become eaters of spiritual fast-food that fancy ourselves to be gourmets.
We live in the Age of Unbearable Thinness.