No One Is Blinder Than He Who Will Not See

Helen Keller noticed something more than 75 years ago - and she was deaf and blind. Writing in The Atlantic Monthly in 1933, she said,

"Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. 'Nothing in particular,' she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.

"How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a birch, or the rough, shaggy, bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud... I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower... I am delighted to have the cool waters of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug.

"If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of color and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than a means of adding fullness to life."

I won't comment further on this story. It speaks volumes by itself.

However, I will add one brief quote from John Horgan, author of "Rational Mysticism":

"The best spiritual advice is the simplest: Pay attention. See! Or rather, cherish. Cherish what you have before it's gone."