I recently finished a book by George Saunders (A Swim in the Pond in the Rain), where he dissects short stories by well-known Russian authors and shows how these stories accurately reflect the vicissitudes of life. Towards the end, Saunders reflects on the human tendency to create stories of our own lives and that of others, something we’ve been exploring in this Seeing Clearly project.
“We think in the same way that we hear or see: within a narrow, survival-enhancing range. We don’t see or hear all that might be seen or heard but only that which is helpful for us to see and hear. Our thoughts are similarly restricted and have a similarly narrow purpose: to help the thinker thrive. The by-product of this limited thinking is ego. And, ego is just trying to survive. The mind takes a vast unitary wholeness (the universe), selects one tiny segment of it (me), and starts narrating from that point of view.”
Saunders gives an example of the city of Chicago. If you hear that city’s name, a picture might arise in your mind, whether you’ve been there before or not. Maybe you’ve seen pictures or you visited once or maybe you’ve lived there your entire life. No matter what, each person will have a slightly different picture. Some will be closer to the actuality than others. But there is no definitive Chicago. It’s changing even as you read these words. It’s never the same Chicago for anyone.
This isn’t a case for relativity. All views are not created equally. But, your point of view is still valid; it’s a piece of the whole. If I’ve learned anything from this project, it’s to keep a sense of humility. I don’t have to give up my values, beliefs, or even opinions, but I do have to recognize that my way is not the only way or the best way.
There are always new ways to see. Instead of trying to determine the “truth,” I ask myself what I might be missing.
Let’s Pause
This Seeing Clearly project began in Week 1 with a post on listening. We’re now at the halfway point, so I’d like to take a pause and turn the microphone over to you. Whether you’ve read the emails, done the practices - or not - you signed up for a reason and I know you have a vision or point of view about what it means to see clearly.
Please pause and reflect before answering. Consider your first thoughts and then let them sit for a few days. Meditate or go for a slow walk. Or, write from your subconscious and see what comes up. Consider these questions.
Why is seeing clearly important to me?
What does seeing clearly mean to me right now?
Where do I most need to see more clearly?
I hope that you’ll share your thoughts, even one sentence, in the comments (which are open to all subscribers). Please don’t comment on the emails or whether you’ve done the practices (you can always share those with me privately at any time). This is all about you and where you’re at right now. There are no right or wrong answers. I think it will be interesting to see the diverse array of responses. And, it will help you (and me) as we move forward.
Take good care of yourself and enjoy this time to pause and reflect.
Why is seeing clearly important to me? What does it mean to me?
I grew up on the rolling hills of Monterey Bay, just outside the small town of Watsonville, youngest in the family with an older brother of eleven years and sister of ten. I loved noticing anything that moved and soon became a hunter, pretending to be Davy Crockett out to feed my family with a single shot a day. I had a dog named Ring. We were best friends and had a lot of freedom to roam. I loved looking, listening and playing, so did Ring. I noticed what was outside and inside, the stories I made up were inside and soft, real things on the outside were sharp and crisp.
We had two original oil paintings in the house from my mother’s family, one of a redwood grove and another of a winter storm on the sea. I liked looking at them and imagining being there. I understood, that was art. It seemed to me they were like my inside world, soft, yet from a distance they were also like my outside real world, but not as sharp and clear. This was the beginning of my love affair with art…what it is and isn’t.
Seeing is a complex thing. On one level it’s largely mechanical, on another conceptual. There are many levels or dimensions to seeing. As the verb, to see, it’s a unitary holistic capability. As the noun, seeing, is a thing. A lovely capability. Seeing clearly is a skill. I am learning to do it skillfully. I hope this course will help.
Recently I went for a routine eye exam, my sight had become cloudy, obfuscated. The Optometrist noticed abnormalities that needed attention by an Ophthalmologist, a retina specialist. A few years earlier my eyes developed cataracts and I had the lens’ replaced surgically, intraocular lens insertion. As it turns out protein grew on the lens’ and were obscuring clear vision and needed to be cleaned off. They do this with a laser in a process called yagcapsulotomy; amazing, fast and voila … clarity. Without clarity we have doubt or obscurity. Without properly working equipment we have distortion or noise in our perceptions and interpretations. With support and feedback, sometimes we can choose to wake up, to change and appreciate what is available right here, right now.
I prefer seeing clearly; knowing over doubting, evidence over bias, data over dogma.
Where do I most need to see more clearly?
Everywhere I go.
Until I signed up for Seeing Clearly, I didn’t know I was missing so much. Listening, really listening, my oh my, the sounds, well that I didn’t even know I missed hearing, I simply didn’t hear them. As write this I’ve heard a roster crowing and crowing, seagulls squawking, dog barking, blackbirds cawing, songbirds tweeting, (maybe saying ‘you said Vancouver wasn’t hot in June’ HA!) My ears weren’t tuned. Somehow having tuned in ears has led to seeing more clearly with my eyes. In many ways not only my ears and eyes - now seeing with my heart - my heart is more open. Which leads to touching and smelling, feeling and talking. It’s been extremely hot in British Columbia, we’ve set new heat records for hottest place in North America. Two days we surpassed Las Vegas. All to say walking among the trees is a different experience, much more dry. What rainforest! The moss on the trees is dry and crumbling, the colours a dull green with touches of brown. Caressing the now not moist moss and asking the tree how it’s managing? How all the creatures that depend on the tree are managing? Can the sapsuckers get bugs? I’ve never spoken to a tree, it simply never crossed my mind.
I’m like a kid in a candy store. It takes me longer to do everything. Walking to the store to pick bananas, a 25 minute return trip, can take an hour. Walking a forest path can take, well hours depending on how many plants wave for a photo, trees wanting their moss caressed, creatures popping up and out from behind a bush. Photo bombing or posing. There is so much to see.
Ha. Ha. As I signed up I wondered , how is Kim going to keep this going for a year, I see now, this is a lifetime way of seeking, seeing and living. Just love how these classes have gently opened me up to all sorts of possibilities.
My goal right now is to see with my heart and hold space for other beings as they traverse their world. See beings and people exactly for who they are and meet them exactly in that spot. Capturing their magical moment in time. To do this well will take a lifetime
Thanks Kim, you rock!