Through the Portal: Reflections on Cataract Surgery and Change
Last week, I underwent my second cataract surgery, a procedure to correct the cloudy vision in my left eye. It was a simple, clinical event—so many people go through it—but the experience left me contemplating how surgery is more than just a medical intervention. It is a portal, a profound threshold that invites reflection, change, and transformation.
The Pause: A Forced Step Away
Surgery forces you to stop. Your regular routines are put on hold, whether you like it or not. In my case, I couldn’t exercise, scroll through my phone, or spend time working on my computer. Even watching TV was limited. These everyday comforts were temporarily taken away, leaving me with stillness and space to just be. It was uncomfortable, but it also created room for awareness—of my habits, my priorities, and my relationship with my body.
Adapting for Healing
To heal, I had to make changes—some easy, some harder. I had to stop smoking weed and avoid sugar to support my recovery. These weren’t just temporary adjustments but deliberate acts of care for my body. It struck me that healing often requires us to pause, look at our lives, and ask, “What needs to shift for me to move forward?”
Surgery can be a catalyst for those shifts. For me, it was a moment to reevaluate what I’m putting into my body, how I’m treating it, and what habits I want to carry into the future. These choices are never easy, but they are always revealing.
Patience in the In-Between
The healing process has been a lesson in patience—something I’m not naturally good at. There’s a certain humility in realizing that so much of it is beyond your control. You can follow the instructions, rest, and take care of yourself, but ultimately, you must surrender to the pace of your body. It’s a kind of forced mindfulness, an invitation to slow down and trust that the process is unfolding as it should.
Facing Fears: The Uncertainty of the Unknown
One of the most profound aspects of this experience has been confronting my fears. Surgery, no matter how routine, comes with uncertainty. Will it go as planned? What if something goes wrong? And beyond the procedure itself, there’s the fear of change. What will life be like on the other side?
For me, this fear wasn’t just about the surgery—it was about losing control. The experience forced me to sit with that discomfort, to face the unknown with trust rather than resistance. There’s a vulnerability in realizing that healing and transformation don’t come with guarantees, but there’s also power in choosing to move forward anyway.
This process reminded me that fear is often a signal of growth. It pushes us to acknowledge what we can’t control and encourages us to embrace what we can—our perspective, our choices, and our willingness to adapt.
A Portal of Change
On the other side of surgery, there’s a choice. Do I go back to the familiar comforts of my old habits, or do I embrace the changes that make me feel better? Surgery is a portal in this way: it pushes you through a space of uncertainty and healing, and when you emerge, you are faced with the opportunity to decide what comes next.
For me, this journey has also been about perspective. My physical body has been altered—an artificial lens now replaces the biological one I was born with. My vision is clearer, but it’s not the same as it once was. I will never see the world quite the same way again. This realization is both literal and metaphorical: the experience of surgery has fundamentally changed how I see myself and the choices I make.
Closing Thoughts
As I reflect on this portal, I’m reminded of a quote by Rumi:
"Try not to resist the changes that come your way. Instead, let life live through you. And do not worry that your life is turning upside down. How do you know that the side you are used to is better than the one to come?"
This experience has been a reminder to embrace forced change and lean into discomfort as a space for growth. On the other side of this portal, I’m still figuring out what habits and priorities I want to carry forward. But one thing is clear: I am changed, and there’s no going back.
Over to You
Have you ever gone through an experience—surgery, illness, or a major life event—that acted as a portal for change? How did you adapt to the forced pause or the adjustments you needed to make? Did the experience fundamentally shift your perspective or habits, and if so, what did you carry forward with you?
I’d love to hear your thoughts and reflections in the comments. Let’s start a conversation about how transformative experiences, even the uncomfortable ones, shape who we are.
