I still remember when I found out I needed glasses at age nine or so. I cried a lot. A few months ago, I realized I can see fine underwater if I’m wearing the swimming goggles but no contact lenses. I still find it fascinating every time I go for some laps in a pool.
First, how did it take me so long to realize this? When I swam regularly, I used to wear lenses. But that’s like wearing glasses, so when I also wear goggles, my underwater vision is blurry, just as it would be if I tried to use my glasses underwater. Only some years ago did I stop bothering wearing lenses for every swim.
Second, why does it work? It must be something about the light being refracted differently underwater, and then perhaps also the goggles acting as some kind of visual aid. I couldn’t find a great answer online, but the result is obvious and clear. I can read signs that are several meters away which I could not read without my glasses above the surface.
Most interestingly, however, how can such a tiny difference affect a man every day for 25 years of his life? The difference between seeing perfectly clearly and only blurry shapes is apparently some water and a plastic screen. Or, above ground, two glass lenses. Why did that margin end up so small, and why does the universe continue to tip one third of all humans just past the edge of not being able to see well with their own two eyes?
There’s a scene in a Simpsons episode where Hans Moleman, known for his notoriously bad sight, gets hit in the eye by randomly shooting lasers. Suddenly, his eyes are repaired. “I can see! It’s a miracle!” Immediately, he gets hit by another laser and, right after, he goes: “Well, you win some, you lose some.”
That’s how I feel about my near-sightedness sometimes. But even if it only seems a coin toss away, remember: It’s not about whether you win or lose. It’s about what you’re going to do with what you have.
