Binocular Vision
As I woke this morning, wondering, as usual, where my glasses were, I got to thinking about depth perception. One lens of my glasses became a casualty of the move when it got scraped on a concrete floor. I need a new prescription anyway, so it's really not a big deal. The blurry scratched spot is right in the middle of my right eye's field of view and seemed to half blind me at first. But in a week or so I have nearly gotten used to it. It's amazing what we can adjust to. Some folks have only one eye and do just fine that way. Some are blind and have a much tougher time of it, but the ones I know move through life with amazing resiliance.
We all know about binocular vision and depth perception. What struck me laying in my waking fog this am was how a mere couple of inches of difference of viewpoint can make such a huge difference. When looking out at a vista of mountain ranges, the couple of inches of separation between my left eye and my right is so tiny as to be statistically non-existent. I have an antique stereoscope - the kind you put the cards in the holder and look through the glasses. One can look at any pair of images on those cards and it is impossible to discern any difference between them.
My point here is that I am myopic. I can only see a situation from my own viewpoint. But someone standing next to me, even with extremely similar values and cultural perspectives, will see the same situation slightly differently. That difference when multiplexed together the way our optic nerves and brains do with the information from our two eyeballs, yields depth of understanding. If I take a situation at what appears to me to be "face value," I will have one, single dimension of understanding of it. "Face value" is a good name, because I see only the surface, one plane, the outside. The thing would look completely different, of course, if I were standing behind it, or far to one side or the other. But a change in perspective of only a couple of inches will yield depth perception and with it insight far beyond what my own view is able to provide. This speaks to the value of relationships and community. It speaks to the value of cross-cultural sensitivity; seeing things from the back side, if you will. But it also speaks greatly to me of the value of comparing and mixing and multiplexing viewpoints with those right next to me. With my wife and closest friends. Our viewpoints may be very similar on some things. But the tiny differences are of tremendous importance to understanding. I want to see my world in rich, 3-D instead of bland flatness. I cannot do that alone.
We all know about binocular vision and depth perception. What struck me laying in my waking fog this am was how a mere couple of inches of difference of viewpoint can make such a huge difference. When looking out at a vista of mountain ranges, the couple of inches of separation between my left eye and my right is so tiny as to be statistically non-existent. I have an antique stereoscope - the kind you put the cards in the holder and look through the glasses. One can look at any pair of images on those cards and it is impossible to discern any difference between them.
My point here is that I am myopic. I can only see a situation from my own viewpoint. But someone standing next to me, even with extremely similar values and cultural perspectives, will see the same situation slightly differently. That difference when multiplexed together the way our optic nerves and brains do with the information from our two eyeballs, yields depth of understanding. If I take a situation at what appears to me to be "face value," I will have one, single dimension of understanding of it. "Face value" is a good name, because I see only the surface, one plane, the outside. The thing would look completely different, of course, if I were standing behind it, or far to one side or the other. But a change in perspective of only a couple of inches will yield depth perception and with it insight far beyond what my own view is able to provide. This speaks to the value of relationships and community. It speaks to the value of cross-cultural sensitivity; seeing things from the back side, if you will. But it also speaks greatly to me of the value of comparing and mixing and multiplexing viewpoints with those right next to me. With my wife and closest friends. Our viewpoints may be very similar on some things. But the tiny differences are of tremendous importance to understanding. I want to see my world in rich, 3-D instead of bland flatness. I cannot do that alone.
posted by wingman at 10:39 AM
2 Comments:
Two are better than one. people who are alone when life hits hard are in real trouble. On a cold night, two under the same blanket can gain warmth from each other - three are even better. Sounds wonderful, but are we understanding what comes with that kind of relationship? There has to be a giving by seeing what you're hearing and an ability to receive what is being offered.Just because there are two under same blanket does not guarantee anything based on that idea alone. I don't know much about this, but I do know that it could be a beautiful thing and could provide solid assurance and beauty and strong trust between people. i would love to be braided under that blanket with you and I know that you desire that as well. We can learn and re-learn, can we not?
Entertwined and enmeshed, clearing the stray hairs and knots, placing the right strands beside ones already there, folding over and through each other, avoiding tying a knot at the perceived end and stopping the flow. What could this be, how could this feel, what could it become?
I didn't stay in scouting long enough to earn the knot expert merrit badge. I probably should have hung in there longer to learn some discipline. At the time, life took me in another direction. It always has and I have always let it. If I only knew then what I know now. That is the story of my life. And most other peoples' lives as well, I suppose. Is it too late for me? I hope not. I'm ready and willing to get at the business of untangling and reweaving and braiding. I'm obviously ham-fisted at it and a poor learner. But I won't stop trying. I hope you won't. God help us to make some kind of fabric that will hold and (dare I ask?) even be beautiful in a rugged, earthy, imperfect way. A style that, fortunately, both of us seem to like.
Post a Comment
<< Home