As random as it could be…

Recently, I walked into a glass door. I was so preoccupied with looking at my mobile phone that I didn’t notice the glass in front of me. I suppose I am on my journey to becoming “Homo-Technologicus-Curvatus.” You can read more about this in a previous blog:  

https://santhoshsramblings.blogspot.com/2024/10/evolutionary-journey.html

 

My concern was: why wasn’t I looking up? Why was I so focused on looking down? If only I had looked straight and up, I would have seen the door and what was ahead of me!  

In neurology, the inability to look up with both eyes is called ‘Upward Gaze Palsy’. Patients with this condition are unable to look up, so their eyes often remain deviated downward. This phenomenon is referred to as the “Setting Sun Sign.” The inferior border of the pupil is partially covered by the lower eyelid, creating the appearance of a “sunset.” This typically occurs when the dorsal midbrain is affected by a blood clot, tumour, bleeding, or other causes. In essence, when the upper brain is cut off from the lower brain by an issue in the midbrain, the ability to look up is lost.  

There’s also an opposite condition: ‘Downward Gaze Palsy’, though it is much less common than upward gaze palsy. In this condition, the patient’s eyes remain fixed upward.  

 

Isn’t this like what happens in daily life? We become so caught up running around, focusing on what’s happening within (Incurvatus In Se) or around us that we forget to look up. In a way, when we lose the perspective that life is connected to something higher and greater, we live with a kind of upward gaze palsy - a loss of the ability to look up.

 

Recently, a close friend passed away. In her final moments, she looked up - fully aware of what was happening around her - gazed at something only she could see and then fell back and left this world. In my clinical work, I’ve observed this phenomenon before. Friends and family members, in the last moments of their lives, often look up towards something visible only to them, usually with a peaceful expression on their faces.  

 

One close friend, who was unconscious and slipping away, suddenly sat up, looked around and upward, and then fell back and passed. I have always wondered how to medically explain this. Since they showed no signs of brain damage (such as downward gaze palsy), it remains a mystery. 

 

Interestingly, three of these friends were people of faith who lived their earthly lives “looking up” daily. I can’t help but wonder: what were they gazing at as they departed? Perhaps, like the account of Stephen in the Good Book, when he was being stoned to death, he looked up and said, “Oh! I see heaven wide open and the Son of Man standing at God’s side!” Could they have been seeing what human eyes cannot - God?  

 

These moments serve as reminders for me. If I want to leave this world looking up, I need to live a life of daily upward gazing. Perhaps a kind of perpetual “downward gaze palsy” would help—keeping my eyes fixed upward on what truly matters.