See for Me

A friend of mine was in Tanzania earlier this year. She went there to observe and take in the landscape and the animals that live there. When she first arrived, the local guides kept pointing out various safari animals. My friend could not see them; they were invisible to her in a landscape so unfamiliar. Her sensory system was on overload making sense of an environment that was entirely new to her. Eventually, as the trip went on and she became acquainted with the colors and shapes of the African landscape, she could spot the lions, elephants, wildebeests, hippos, and giraffes.

Noticing is an interesting component to what we allow into our consciousness. Like almost everything else, our awareness unfolds and expands when we are ready or willing or prompted by circumstance. So what may seem like denial may in some instances be blindness due to a lack of awareness.

We may seek to expand our awareness through meditation or psychedelics. Mindfulness or yoga practices allow us to find flexibility within our field of concentration so we can open or narrow our focus intentionally. Much like going to the gym to build strength and muscle capacity, engaging various attention and awareness practices allows us to explore the edges of what we currently know in order to see a little further out or from a new vantage point. 

In the early weeks of my work with clients, most of our work together aims to to expand awareness. Expanding awareness makes more room for the transformation and the next iteration of who the client is becoming through the rite of passage of grief. We need to experience the growing capacity of our expanding consciousness that lives and breathes beyond our physical form. As we begin to notice and become more aware, we create space within ourselves for change. With a wider field of awareness, we are more likely to see new patterns and new places to stand.

We often participate blindly in dysfunctional relationships. Our conditioning from childhood and repetitive relationships that reflect the constellations of those early conditions tend to repeat and reinforce a familiar land. It is another way we go in circles. We are blind to the sources of pain that we have continued to engage. It is only when there is a disturbance or when the pain threshold is met that we begin to question its source and seek another way of being. 

Blame, which designates an outside source and shame or self-blame, which turns us on ourselves, are the extreme and often early unfolding of the transformation process. The truth is that everyone has a part, and finding a more balanced perspective through expanded awareness provides room to grow and change. We begin to see our own agency in the situation, and we can participate in our personal growth.

Inattentional blindness is the scientific name for the phenomenon of not seeing what is right before our eyes. What we pay attention to shapes our perception and therefore our behavior or response. If our attention is focused on one thing, looking for a particular street sign, we may miss the car on fire on the side of the road. We are not ignoring the blazing fire because we are self-absorbed, but are focused on getting to the end of our route successfully.

We are not ignoring the stale green light and trying to hold up traffic, but are more likely deep in thought or sorting out an emotionally difficult situation. Only when our attention is disturbed by the driver’s horn behind us are we jolted into action and noticing the green light staring back at us. We focus and attend to particular environmental conditions because we decide those things are the most important. Our existing schemas fill in the blanks. The filling in the blanks is automated, and keeps us blind to other elements in the landscape that we do not consider as important.  

In the new territory, expanding awareness is subtle and nearly imperceptible at times. Walking in an unfamiliar landscape, it is hard to see what may be right in front of us. Like being in Tanzania where everything is unfamiliar, we do not have schemas yet to fill in the blanks. We are blind in this new land, and must rely on guides who know the territory and can alert us to what is important.

I am this guide for my clients who can easily become lost in familiar emotional patterns, missing the subtle shifts and new patterns in the midst of their grief. Asking a questions, redirecting their attention, or having them try a new practice opens a new layer of awareness.

I remember the times in my life when I was looking for a house to buy or place to rent, all I saw was for sale/rent signs everywhere. Even after finding housing, I continued to see the signs for many months afterward. My focus and attention were concentrated on the important task of finding shelter.  

Or, when we learn a new word, we will suddenly see that word or hear it often. It is like the world around us is discovering that word too. Perhaps, we find a penny on a day when we really need to feel lucky. Then we find another, and soon pennies seem to be at our feet wherever we turn. Encountering what we are noticing synchronizes with the world around us, and we experience a greater connectedness. Connection is no small thing, and may be the most important thing. When awareness and synchronicity brings us a sense of connection, that is real and good. It is the universe conspiring on our behalf with the very support we need in that moment.

With sirens and lights freshly seated in my mind, I have been wondering about all the sirens I hear daily now. Are there are more emergencies and accidents lately? Or am I just attuned to those noises because of the emergency I experienced on April 4, 2023? 

I noticed the emergency vehicle that passed me that day, but not at the level I would have had I known where it was headed. Now, I see lights and hear the sirens, even in the distance, daily. My awareness and focus are tuned-in to the important clues of my otherwise familiar environment. I am sure because of my attunement to some things in my field, I have inattentional blindness to others. I am not sure what the consequences of this blindness might be, particularly over time. I am sure there are entire swaths of life that are invisible to me right now. Things I used to tend are no longer part of my focus each day. I actually have no idea what is going on in the world. The news is pretty much what is happening at my kitchen table. 

I remember this kind of world-shrink happening during other times of crisis or loss. When my oldest child was hospitalized and nearly died, my world became a pinpoint. Everything else was peripheral to his wellbeing. It shaped what was actually important, especially in terms of relationships. 

What I say next may offend some of you who decide to take it personally. You may have hurt feelings over this, which is not my intention, or you may want to call me a man hater. I am not, I assure you. In our house we make fun of ourselves and each other because taking ourselves too seriously is lame. Human nature is funny stuff. I hope you can take this next bit in stride.

My Cajun Cuz by another Muth has coined a term to describe the inattentional blindness phenomenon. She calls it “looking like a man”. For example, on any given day, normal household objects/supplies are misplaced or cannot be found or have been reorganized to a more logical place (according to the organizer). Sometimes, Edmond would go into a cabinet to look for a bar of soap or new tube of toothpaste. He would come back to me and tell me he could not find it. I would then give specific detailed information about its exact location in the cabinet: second shelf, on the left, next to the small hand towels. He would return and tell me he was “looking like a man”, and could I please come and find the soap so he could shower. 

My sons and daughters and I also use this phrase when we just cannot find what we know is likely in front of our faces. So the phrase is not gender specific. We are open to the knowing we sometimes need another set of eyes to help us see what is currently outside of our field of vision. 

I am sure there are things I cannot see right now. I am trusting that there are many things that are serving me or will serve me that are outside of my awareness. The myopia of grief has shrunken my world, and I am sifting through what I can notice and see. 

I am grateful beyond measure for the guides who remind me what day it is, that there is not school on Friday, and to look again. Other’s eyes and visions in this strange land serve me, helping me imagine my way forward on the days when I don’t want to open my eyes. And, when I am “looking like a man”, I can chuckle at myself or along side my seer-friend as I find my way.