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June 22, 2025

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1 Homepage Slider 3 Top Story Point of View Laura

See by Laura J. Oliver 

May 21, 2023 by Laura J. Oliver

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I had a crush on my last ophthalmologist. He seemed very tall, striding into the small confines of the exam room, dark hair contrasting with his crisp, white lab coat. He was exceedingly charismatic, popular with patients and staff, and had a French surname which didn’t hurt a bit. I began to think of him as America’s Boyfriend, which I know is supposed to be Anderson Cooper but is really Dr. Barreau. 

I was sorry when Dr. Barreau left the practice and neutral, if not a bit wary, about his replacement. My new doctor appears humorless, pretty tightly wound, and alarmingly young. 

He’s been advising me to get some surgery ever since he joined this group of physicians, but he seems like a baby. He mentions it yet again as I gaze at his youthful left ear inches away on the other side of the autorefractor, and I think… baby wants practice. 

He leaves the room, encouraging me to watch a video extolling the virtues of his new laser, and I think… baby has a new toy. Then his tech comes in with a questionnaire that asks, “On a scale of one to ten, how easygoing are you?” To paraphrase, on the left, the choice is: “I’m an unreasonable perfectionist,” and on the right, the choice is, “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” I consider this a minute and think…baby wants wiggle room because the context of this question makes no sense. I mean, I’m laid back about traffic backups, but I wouldn’t be cool with, for instance, surgery on the wrong eye.

I’m thinking this over, stuck in traffic when I notice the SUV in front of me has a bumper sticker that says, “Angry Mob.” Intrigued, I ease cautiously closer and see it actually says, “Angry Mom.” A little closer and I realize it says, “Army Mom,” and I think, Oh, geez, baby knows what he’s talking about. I schedule surgery. 

My physician does a fabulous job; I’m sorry I doubted him. He was right, he was skilled, and I no longer need glasses to read the menu in dimly lit restaurants. In fact, I no longer need glasses at all. But even with eye surgery, I can’t see the forest for the trees. The energy I spend living out each day’s obligations doesn’t allow me to plan ahead, to consider what these days look like if I gather them all in my arms and call them a life? Doctor, can you fix that? 

I’m so immersed in getting chores done, editing others’ work, walking the dog, doing the laundry, transplanting the perennials, studying astronomy, scrubbing the kitchen, doing what feels good in the moment with no regard for the long run (oops), that the big stuff, the reason-you’re-here-stuff just stumps me. Doctor, can you fix that?

I think about the people who drew the Nazca lines 2500 years ago–the geoglyphs on the desert plateau in southern Peru. The hummingbird, the spider, and the monkey are so massive their shapes are unrecognizable from the ground, where you can only see about 3 miles, hindered by the curvature of the planet and the atmosphere. Drawn on the earth, they are only discernible from the sky. 

I’m standing on my life’s Nazca lines. How can I see the big picture when I can see only the past as a shadow and the present in parts? (Why didn’t we take more vacations? Have I watered the hanging basket on the porch?) 

From where I stand, I can only see to the end of the street. But from the perspective of the stars, I’d see all the roads in my neighborhood, all the intersections. All the signs instructing me to yield or to merge, perhaps to change lanes or to get off the road altogether. I’d know which streets are one-way, where to make a U-turn. Maybe I’d see my destination and the most efficient way to get there, or the most scenic route. But the Nazca had no access to the sky. How did they create art for the ages that they couldn’t see? 

We have a theory now that sounds plausible. The Nazca carefully and incrementally scaled up a smaller drawing. Maybe that’s all we need to do: Scale up love itself.

One day without criticizing others becomes two, and then ten. One spontaneous act of kindness becomes a hundred, then a habit. One day lived with authenticity becomes all our remaining years, the pattern of our lives a rendering observable only from the height of heaven.

Where there is a plan so big, we can’t see it. 

Laura J. Oliver is an award-winning developmental book editor and writing coach, who has taught writing at the University of Maryland and St. John’s College. She is the author of The Story Within (Penguin Random House). Co-creator of The Writing Intensive at St. John’s College, she is the recipient of a Maryland State Arts Council Individual Artist Award in Fiction, an Anne Arundel County Arts Council Literary Arts Award winner, a two-time Glimmer Train Short Fiction finalist, and her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Her website can be found here.

 

 

 

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: 1 Homepage Slider, 3 Top Story, Laura

Hogan Memorial Scholarship Awarded to Nick” Grassini of Tilghman Remembering Jim Brown by Howard Freedlander

Letters to Editor

  1. Andrea Doudera says

    May 21, 2023 at 1:17 PM

    What a great observation, and your young doctor comments cracked me up. I didn’t even know about the Nazca! Now I’ll have to research them. Thanks for the inspiring essay.

    • Laura Oliver says

      May 21, 2023 at 6:50 PM

      Thanks so much, for reading and responding! The Nazca lines are fascinating! Made on the desert floor of Peru in patterns so gigantic you can only see what most of them are from a plane. Which means they were not recognized for thousands of years. Why would the Nazca have done that? Who did they imagine we’re seeing those images? It’s as if they were drawing for God.

  2. Michael Pullen says

    May 21, 2023 at 4:53 PM

    Another gift, thank you. Every act of kindness contains the whole, yet we only see it in part, not the rippling expansion beyond the horizon. And enjoy the good grace of your stories rippling past us, helping us to better see the whole.

    • Laura Oliver says

      May 21, 2023 at 6:54 PM

      Thank you. You are comments are so thoughtful, generous and astute, I hope we meet someday.

  3. Ursula Milone says

    May 22, 2023 at 5:36 AM

    Thank you Laura. I needed to read this article today.

    • Laura J Oliver says

      May 22, 2023 at 9:47 AM

      So glad you found it, Ursula. Thank you for reading.

  4. Joe Feldman says

    May 22, 2023 at 11:24 AM

    Laura,
    Love how you combine human emotions and your keen sense of humor into a story.
    For me, it humanizes, demystifies and allows me to identify even more.
    I laughed out loud at the bumper sticker episode.
    Interesting no matter the “size”….whether the small surgical space of the eye….or the expanse of the
    Nazca Lines….there is…. so much…. that lies “in between”…for us to stop…observe….absorb… and try to
    understand…..if…the Nazca Lines were a tribute to the G-d’s…..or marking a landing strip for our Alien visitors…..
    ….or an art gallery…to be observed by the artists…from another galaxy…..

    • Laura J Oliver says

      May 23, 2023 at 5:33 PM

      Thank you, Joe. I have a lot of fun writing this column, often laughing aloud in my office all by myself!

  5. Mark Pellerin says

    May 22, 2023 at 7:59 PM

    Lovely again!

    • Laura J Oliver says

      May 23, 2023 at 5:34 PM

      Thanks, Mark! Always happy to hear the column may have hit its intended mark.

  6. Christine Boudrie says

    May 22, 2023 at 8:56 PM

    Thought-provoking and beautifully written, Laura. Thank you!

    • Laura J Oliver says

      May 23, 2023 at 5:35 PM

      Thanks both for reading and for responding, Christine!

  7. Amanda A Gibson says

    May 25, 2023 at 8:45 PM

    I love this, Laura! You’re such a master at teasing out the “big picture” (ha ha) from the everyday moments.

  8. Tricia says

    May 27, 2023 at 6:56 AM

    I love this, Laura. Another gem. I’m still holding on to “Heart to the sky!”

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