Posts Tagged ‘Perceptions’
Relative View
It came to my attention recently, by way of a public radio program, that the image of my face that I look at in my mirror everyday, is not the version of me that everyone else sees. I heard a rebroadcast of the program, RadioLab, specifically, a story about symmetry, which included a segment called, “Mirror, Mirror.”
It isn’t really a surprise, …at least, it shouldn’t be, yet, it seemed really profound to me at the time. After having let the idea simmer in my mind for over a week, it continues to spark a feeling of significance. I’ve yet to gain any clarity as to what that significance might be for me, so I believe writing about it might be a worthy exploration. Maybe the significance is not for me, but for someone who is reading here.
I am well aware that a mirror reverses images. We all know that text in a mirror will appear backwards. I’m guessing people will recognize the phenomena of giving directions, say, when carrying a couch, and needing to specify, “my left.” The reversal of image does appear to be an obvious fact, but it is one that is easy to lose sight of with the occurrence of daily viewing our own face.
If you click on the link above to the RadioLab site for, “Mirror, Mirror,” you can find a portrait of Abraham Lincoln, with the ability to click to then see his mirror image. It is an interesting exercise to see the view he would have looked upon in the mirror, as compared to the man the rest of the world saw.
I decided to look at two opposite images of myself, side by side, and see if I could recognize a difference. It won’t mean much to people who don’t know me, I suspect, but I’d be interested if those of you who do know me, recognize one of these images as being the view of me you see in real life, face to face encounters.
It seems to me that I would have noticed that the face I see in photographs of me would look different than how I see myself in the mirror, but I don’t have any recollection of ever having had that thought. (Of course, I don’t have an obvious left or right hair-part that would make the visual difference more dramatic, which, by the way, is the point that is featured in the RadioLab episode.) I do know some people who complain that they never like how they look in photographs, and a few who flat out refuse to have their pictures taken.
Maybe that is akin to the phenomenon of not liking the sound of our own recorded voice, because it doesn’t sound like us. Since we usually only hear ourselves with the internal resonances of our own heads, our recorded voices sound foreign.
It could be that our being accustomed to the view of our faces in a mirror, is why images of us in photographs can look foreign to some people.
Interesting topic of perspectives, don’t you think? If nothing else, it is a darn good topic for a blog called Relative Something! I still don’t sense what it is that I might want to take from this new insight of perspectives, but it has me freshly aware that the guy I see in my mirror is, indeed, opposite from the one everyone else sees.
Now you have an excuse to spend a few extra minutes in front of a mirror, next chance you get, pondering what it is you are actually seeing!
For reference, if you are interested, it is possible to get a mirror that double-reverses the reflection, so you can see yourself as the rest of the world sees you. Check out the True Mirror (featured in the RadioLab program) for one such version.
Now What?
My little image challenge from a few days back was popular enough to entice me to do that kind of thing again. This time, you have an opportunity to get lost in the mysterious transposing of depth perception. Is it recessed, or raised? Figure out what you think this could possibly be, before scrolling down to click the link which will reveal the full image…
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The answer to today’s challenge can be seen, after you make your guess, by clicking here.
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Everything Serves
We were out for our half-hour therapeutic exercise walk yesterday afternoon, when a car went past that we didn’t recognize. We could see the driver wave, and then heard a toot of the horn, expressing a friendly hello. It was pretty convincing that this was a neighbor to whom we had probably introduced ourselves in the last couple of months.
It provided a pleasant feeling of belonging. That’s valuable to us, because we still feel a bit unsettled into our life here.
Other than the walk, we weren’t outside for anything more than filling one bird feeder, and the day disappeared into a couple of computing projects we each found ourselves buried under. The reward for each of our efforts was frustratingly lacking. I accept that there will be days like this. We are each doing our best to frame it in a positive mindset, and recognize that even the struggles of the day serve a greater good of informing us. What we choose to do with the information is essential to the success of achieving our ongoing goals.
Here’s to continuing progress of health, happiness, and Wintervale projects, even after a day of not so much!
Routine Search
We are into the second week of our new routine, if you can call this a routine, and I feel like I am chasing my tail in search of a routine. I want to get over the hump of initiating accounts, registering for licenses, figuring out hours that places are open for business, plotting my travel routes and times, getting things ready in a timely manner, and finding the damn course-ground pepper.
We lost our pepper shaker. It was here a couple of days ago. We were using it at meals for several days, then it disappeared. I think it happened when Cyndie rearranged the kitchen cupboards the second time.
She had stowed most items and we were operating in a semi-functional mode. When she was eventually ready to really tackle the kitchen, she needed to pull EVERYTHING out and then begin placing the new accessory shelves she purchased, and putting things back in a new order. Somewhere in that process, the pepper disappeared. It may be easiest to just buy another bottle of pepper.
I still find myself reaching to the left wall for the light switch when I enter our bathroom. The switch is on the right side, past the open door. Harrumph. I was told that 10 days is all it takes for something to become habit. Each day I’m hoping it will be the one I quit flailing away at the left side, in search of a switch, when I enter.
I did notice, on my drive home yesterday, how easy it was for me to make an incredibly dramatic shift in how I frame my long drives in traffic since we moved. I’ve historically felt very strong disdain for traffic jams. I abhorred being caught in stopped traffic. It was very important for me to have a short and convenient commute.
The move we just made was the absolute wrong choice, in terms of my feelings about traffic. However, this move was right in every other way. Now that we have lived here a couple weeks, I can say, it is better than right in every other way. It is a dream come true. It is a thrilling paradise that tugs at, and energizes, every ounce of my being. And just that quick, my feelings about driving a long way to work, and dealing with traffic, have completely transformed.
Granted, it has only been 2-weeks. Feel free to ask me what I think after the weather creates days of poor driving conditions. I am open to the possibility that I will grow weary of the long drive. That is okay. I don’t plan to need to make the long commute forever. During this phase, I have plenty of options available from which to choose, in dealing with traffic issues that arise.
I am just happy to discover the new level of acceptance that has occurred for me. It is the first step in establishing the new routine I long to achieve.
Deep Memories
A friend once asked me what it was like to have had such an idyllic childhood, after I described what I remembered about my early years growing up on a farm. Yes, that property which my grandfather purchased after the end of World War II was a great place for a kid to live. I’m discovering it may have made more of an impression on me than I have been aware. (See posts about that farm, published here in Relative Something, 3-years ago, starting here.)
Yesterday, Cyndie and I drove to visit the property we are soon purchasing, and then have dinner at a local restaurant in recognition of the 31st wedding anniversary we reached this past week. Part of me was interested in departing during rush hour, to get some exposure to what the traffic pattern is like at a time of day I may be trying to get home from the day-job. The rest of me didn’t really care much at all about that, because, regardless the traffic, the destination is just so incredibly thrilling.
The late September afternoon couldn’t have been any more perfect, for the crisp, clean air, bright sunshine, and, sprawling out in front of us, to the east, a spectacular cloud formation that grew increasingly dark-gray at the bottom, washing down to earth, as a result of the rain falling out of it.
I had it in mind to turn off the primary highway, shortly after we crossed into Wisconsin, to check out local roads that appear to be the most direct route to our property, as viewed from overhead on a map.
Our dreamy fairy tale of discovering this perfect property is one that just couldn’t be any better, …except it keeps becoming more so.
Getting off the main road, with its wide frontage and striped pavement, and onto scenic, rolling, narrow country roads, turned out to be better than I imagined. Some of the pavement is even freshly laid this summer. The scenes that unfold include dramatic vistas of forested hills and picture-perfect swaths of farmed fields. So much of the drive to our property is akin to staring into a multitude of fabulous paintings of quintessential country landscape scenery, it feels surreal, especially after decades of driving in the suburban metropolitan scene-scape of which we are long familiar.
When we pulled up the driveway (which Cyndie had me check on the car’s odometer: a quarter of a mile long), and I considered the thought that this would be my entrance to home every day, there was a sense of awe that felt supernatural. It also felt familiar, like this is a return to something I know from long ago.
I can’t help but think of my father, and his experience on the farm property his father had purchased. There are some deep-seated memories being awakened by this wonderful wooded property in the country. I’m not entirely sure whether I am recognizing my father’s experience, or my own childhood memories.
I think the familiarities that would come from both, are probably shared.
Lawn Averse
With all my attention of the last few weeks focused on the walls and furniture in our house, the yard has been mostly ignored. Last night, I squeezed in a couple of hours outside, and what I found was rather ugly, especially in light of our plan to be showing the place to buyers. There are a lot of things growing in our yard, and most of them aren’t grass.
Now, if you know me, you are probably thinking this is a good thing. I have spent most of the 25 years we have lived in the present location, reducing the areas of our lot that were lawn grass. But there are still spots that are supposed to be grass, and they seem to be giving in to the momentum I created to transition away from lawn and over to perennial ground cover.
In the areas that I let go natural, I lay down a lot of leaves as ground cover, which helps control weed growth. The grass areas don’t have that bed of leaves, and have become fertile ground for a wide variety of weeds that have infested.
As the month of April wound down, we enjoyed the blessing of plenty of rain showers here, and those April showers have brought May weeds (not flowers) on my lot. When Cyndie was last in town, we picked up some grass food with weed control to spread on the lawn, but it requires a forecast of at least 24 hours without rain. I haven’t been able to apply it yet.
While I was out mowing the lawn, and weeds, with my human powered reel mower, I contemplated the impression our yard will give to couples checking this place out. It occurred to me that the people who will find our house appealing will very likely be similar-minded enough that they will see the existing landscape as an attractive asset, not a negative.
I can hope.
Minding Months
We’ve reached the end of April. Tomorrow will be the month of May, 2012. It fascinates me that, to my perception, every single month seems to arrive sooner than my mind expects it should.
Since it happens every month, shouldn’t my mind gradually adjust to it, such that the perception would begin to come across as normal, not increasingly too soon?
I’m curious how, or even if, my perception would be different if we didn’t break the days of the year into 12-month blocks. If I just counted the days in a year, would the numbers appear to climb at an increasingly rapid rate?
It’s all relative something. Like all things, the move from one month to the next can be seen as happening both quick, and at the same time, surprisingly slow.
Tomorrow will be May. Summer is not far beyond that. Today is all April. I will enjoy the rest of April for everything it has to offer.
It seems like the rest of the month went by really fast.
Invention Needed
It’s funny how easy it can be to live separated from my wife, for varying spans of time, and then, suddenly, it becomes overwhelmingly burdensome.
One thing I noticed this week, that seems to have dragged my spirit down, is a brief call from Cyndie that announced the end of the workshop she had been at; one which had put her out of contact with me over the weekend.
Actually, that doesn’t read right. It wasn’t that phone call that brought me down. That call was incredibly energizing. I knew she would be flying back to Boston that day and I was really hoping she would call. I was absolutely thrilled to receive it and hear her joyful voice, filled with a vibrant sparkle created by her experience at Linda Kohanov’s place in Arizona.
The problem was, it was just a brief check-in to let me know she had safely arrived in Boston. We both had things going on that evening and so we hoped to catch each other later.
It didn’t happen.
Now another day has passed and I expect that she is deeply entrenched in the heavy grind and long hours that is the reality of her work in Boston.
I think the situation that has created my current pouting is that all-too-brief moment of bliss, when I heard her voice, which brought my excitement up, followed by the dashed hopes for more of the same, because the night ended without our connecting.
The higher the high, the lower the low.
Her absence in the days following create a weight on my shoulders. Each successive task seems increasingly onerous. I become less and less interested in the options I have before me, because none of them involve talking with my wife.
I like living alone. It’s just that I’d like to live alone and live with my wife at the same time.
I don’t think they’ve invented that yet.
Comfortably Uncomfortable
With a nod of thanks to my friend, Gary Larson, last night I was able to hear actor, writer, author, voice artist Wallace Shawn speak at an author lecture series at the Hopkins Center for the Arts. He read from one of his essays on the Quest for Superiority. His perspective, as one who was born into a privileged life, yet suffers the angst of discovering that it comes at the expense of those without privilege, is one that I understand very well.
Earlier in the day, I had read a commentary (counterpoint) in a local newspaper, “White Privilege is Most Potent When Denied” and the combination of the two things, occurring on the same day, both relating to this similar issue, have me re-invigorated to consider ways I might contribute in an ongoing way to shedding light on the topic.
There is that difficulty of continuing to enjoy the benefits of the current system, while trying to point out the failures of the system, that makes doing so particularly difficult. As ‘Wally’ points out, it can be comfortable living in privilege, and it is too easy to lose attention to the issue under the spell of those comforts.
Ideally, it would be desirable for everyone to rise to a level of privilege that would enable the joy of being comfortable, …as opposed to simply removing all comforts toward a goal of total equity for people the world over.
It is an issue that exceeds the capacity of my feeble mind to adequately comprehend, but at least I am past the point of obliviousness, or worse yet, denial. It is something for me to think on, this concept of shedding light on the topic, ongoing.
Relative Something 
