Blind spot
January 4th, 2007 by rivercrow
A few months ago, I knocked a glass off the kitchen counter. The glass was half-full of water and shattered on the floor. I had moved the glass twice to a safer place on the counter on the left side of the sink; each time, husband relocated the glass to the right side of the sink. We’re both right handed, so having the glass to the right makes sense. However, where the glass ended up (where glasses still end up) was directly in a blind spot of mine.
I learned several things from that episode.
First, I started noticing that I often don’t pay a lot of attention to physical details, especially if they meet certain criteria. First is “things at elbow height.” I experimented with different colored beverages in glasses and glasses vs ceramic mugs. To my right, clear glasses and water are nearly invisible. To my left, this is not so–I notice things at my left elbow.
Then I started thinking about my observation of physical details in general. Being INTP (hah, you wondered when I’d get to that, didn’t you?), I knew my Extraverted Sensing process is pretty low on the list. We’re among the worst Type for dressing, messiness, and so forth, presumably because of low Extraverted Sensing. I think that’s what makes macro photography so exciting for me; when I work at that level, I’m exercising a process that doesn’t get much “out” time by concentrating on details. But, being INTP and having a tendency to focus single-mindedly, I can block out all the rest of the discomforts of macro work (awkward positions, gravel digging into the knees) as well as the absurdity of adults rolling about in the parking lot of an office supply store. (All of which I did to capture this ant picture, much to the restrained horror of my husband.)
As I learned more about my limitations in this area, I realized how important it was to be aware of the shortcomings. For instance, I tend to run into objects because I’m not aware of them. Realizing the extent of my oblivion makes it easier for me to make adjustments and not collide with tables and dresser edges as much. And know to move the objects from my right elbow range before I use the kitchen sink.
As for communicating my needs. Yes, that too. “Please don’t leave the glass here; I can’t see it.” Okay, that sounds lame. But, that’s the easiest explanation.
And now, I need to refill my glass.
4 Responses to “Blind spot”
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Yeah, it sure makes it difficult to arrive at old age in one piece, let alone reach the old age mark when that Se function is a major void in your backpack.
Upon arrival home one day from Uni, (a time back in my youth) when I was stressed enough to the kilt after being reminded that my assignment deadline had finally rolled around and was due the following day, only another intp could appreciate the depth of the horror that I was still to face.
Seated at my desk at home, with this pending sense of urgency, I knew I just had to pick up where I had left off. So, in my usual unconscious manner, I reached for my assignment notes and a pen. Both hands came up empty! It was at this point in time, that the outer environment of my work space suddenly and without warning became my conscious, current focus of attention. You may have guessed it, crowsie, …my mum had tidied my work desk!
After initially spilling forth, in the direction of my mum, every gross profanity imaginable, I soon crumbled and admitted defeat. Somehow, and along with a decent serving from the hand of grace, I knew I had no other option other than to meet the challenge that was presented before me. I had to first find and then understand the “logic” that was behind this new arrangement that had taken over my concrete work space environment, if I was ever going to be able to locate all the items and bits and pieces that I so desperately needed.
Even now, I can so easily coast right on over the outer environment, being left with a deep impression but so little regarding its detail. It is as if that part of me is operating on some sort of auto-pilot navigation setting. I only become aware of that outer environment dimension’s details when something that may not have been there from my previous impression-input-reading has changed so significantly, that this new detail hinders and halts my auto-pilot navigation reading and I am then having to consciously exert the effort to take a look.
It would be liberating to find the balance between Se anaesthesia and sensory input overload.
P_H, your comments keep being snagged as spam, for some reason! Never fear–I look at everything that gets captured!
I remember a time right after high school when my mom did something similar. I was at the beach with a friend and her parents. While I was gone, my mom rearranged my entire bedroom–right down to moving the bed from one wall to another!
(A digression. I’m one of those people who can tell if my head is aligned to cardinal points or not. There are times when I need to sleep with my head to the west and other times when it isn’t as critical. Given the “wrong” orientation and adequate space on the sleeping surface, I will reorient while I sleep. I have no clue where that sensitivity comes from.)
Mom had rearranged my bed from the “right” place to the “wrong” place. So when I came home, the first thing I had to do was rearrange my bedroom while trying to fend off mom (who was angry and hurt that I didn’t thank her for her efforts).
If someone bottles that Se balance stuff, I’ll be the first in line!
Oh yes, I also suffer with that same sleeping disorder - the cardinal point orientation twist shuffle.
Like you, I always found upon awakening that I had actually re-orientated myself to mainly the NE-SW cardinal points whilst asleep. It wasn’t until a decade or so back, that I realized my weird sleeping twist shuffle was in fact, my “favourable” sleeping orientation according to Feng Shui and my subconscious obviously knew this all along! Just imagine the depth and wealth of the “knowledge” that actually lays untapped and unacknowledged in our own subconscious during our lifetime.
Crowsie, I’d be interested in knowing whether your your preferred cardinal point sleeping orientation also matches your Feng Shui Favourable direction. … you can work it out here:
http://www.168fengshui.com/blog/2005/08/22/finding-your-best-feng-shui-directions/
I’ve been paying attention to how I sleep. According to the site you sent, I’m “kun” and should sleep with my head to the SW.
I do find myself sleeping best with my head to the west. Easterly feels wrong usually–even when I sleep on the sofa “head in the east” doesn’t work as well as “head in the west”.
Worst of all is “head in the south”, which is the direction my mom had moved the bed. Makes me feel upside down and ungrounded, if that makes any sense.