Among the strange and wonderful things about my personality and behavior is an issue I have dealt with for years. I see small print much faster than large print. I notice small objects before I notice large objects. Behind all that is the general issue that I tend to see only what I'm looking for. And sometimes I don't see much else. Several years ago I traveled to meet a youth group from our church that had already traveled to North Carolina. One of the leaders said, "What did you think of all those red flowers?" "What red flowers?" "The red flowers that were everywhere." "I didn't see any read flowers." (Look of disbelief on her face).On my way home I saw red flowers everywhere. They were in the median. On the side of the road. They were ubiquitous! They had been there the whole time but I didn't see them because I wasn't looking for them.
Another example illustrates the point. When learning a new computer program at a former job, I could not find how to launch the program. I was determined though to figure it out without asking the office manager for help. I knew she wouldn't mind helping me, I just didn't want to ask. I read the entire page several times looking for a link to begin the training module. Finally, I gave up and asked her for help. She looked at the screen and showed me a block about an inch square that read, "Start here." There are many other current examples, but I think you get the idea. I can poke gentle fun at myself for this malady, but it does get to be a problem from time to time.
Have you ever read something that didn't seem all that important at the time? And then when you thought about it some more you realized just how important it was. A few days ago I read, "Don't just see what you're looking for; see everything." Once it soaked in that it could be useful, I started doing just that. I started noticing everything. Then something happened to help me take the exercise more seriously. I was told that some vision issues related to cataract surgery last year would require a procedure in both eyes with a laser. The doctor said that it was a very routine procedure and had little risk to my eyesight. That conversation was a couple of weeks ago and the procedure was today. For two weeks I decided to see things with the possibility that those two weeks would be the last two weeks I could see. I wouldn't call the experience "extraordinary" because I knew that the possibility of losing my vision was mostly hypothetical, but I did notice a lot more than usual. I tried to take in everything. I made mental photographs that I could recall if I lost my sight.One thing I noticed is something my son called my attention to years ago. After seven months in Santiago, Chile we were sitting on our back deck and he said, "Dad, have you ever noticed how GREEN it is here!?" And I said that I really hadn't. So for the past two weeks I've noticed, again, how green it is. And I've noticed all various shades of green in the leaves and the grass. I've noticed a lot of things that I normally don't pay any attention to. And I've enjoyed it.
Without any conscious thought on my part, my psyche expanded my resolve from just "see everything" to "hear everything" and "feel everything." I'm not quite ready to start a new religion, but this directive had made a difference for me. I am typically easily annoyed by sounds that I don't want to hear. Radios playing music I don't want to hear. Televisions in waiting rooms on channels I don't want to see and hear. In those small rooms, I can usually get away from "see", but I can't escape "hear." The latest assault to my senses is the television at the gas pump. I just want to pump gas and contemplate the meaning of life not see and hear the latest deal on their Slurpees or who got booted from Dancing With the Stars.
But this is changing. Last weekend I was in a showroom with a television playing on one end and the showroom radio piped through the building. This normally would have caused me grief, but I just decided to hear it all as sound and I was able to do that. And later I was in a restaurant restroom where the music was blaring. I just let it blare. It had nothing to do with me. "Hear everything."
The "feel everything" I'm working on, too. I've remembered what Conrad's counselor said to him in Ordinary People, "Not all feelings feel good." "Just feel the way you feel" I've been told. All feelings are valid. They aren't all comfortable, but they are all valid. "Feel everything."
The procedure in my left eye went as planned and I expect the procedure in my right eye to go just as well. I have not lost my sight. But all the same I have a new resolve to pay attention to what's around me. To see everything instead of just what I'm looking for. Today I noticed that the yellow flowers that bloomed by the welcome center were no longer there. I noticed there was no caboose on the train that I waited for at the crossing. The last freight car appeared and then the train was gone. I noticed a lot of things.
If I published Fifty Shades of Green: How to Deal With Nausea, do you think I'd sell as many copies as that grey version? I'm sure you have no idea.
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