Much Like a Blind Man

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One might ask a blind man what he dreams of. How could a man who was blind from birth dream of things he has not seen? Would he dream of colour? His wife’s face? The pleasant mountain view? How could he dream of something that he does not know?
Everyone can be much like a blind man. Trapped inside our own world, taking into consideration only what we know. We may see our abundant riches and large residences and not begin to fathom the heartbreak of poverty suffered by many. How can a visionary from a high estate possibly dictate the needs of the meek?

Knowing myself and my own struggles, I see that I have not always viewed the world from my adversaries’ eyes. How can I possibly perceive even a hue as they do. Much like a blind man, I cannot dream of what I have not seen. I have not seen through anyone’s eyes but my own. I have not felt with anyone’s hands but my own. All I know is what’s in my world. So I cannot expect anyone to know and think as I do. And you cannot expect me to know and think as you do. For we are all much like a blind man.





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