It’s idiom time! Thank you, once again, Merriam Webster:
I had an experience last week that reminded me of one of my favorite topics when I was in teacher mode, a unit about the limits of human perception…being unable to see what’s in front of us. I don’t know how much fun the lecture was, but my students loved this video.
Have you seen it already? It’s just 90 seconds long. I don’t want to give anything away, so if it’s new to you…take a peek and then come back.
Spoiler Alert #1: Pinky swear…did you view? I’m hoping so because what I’m about to share will skew your first watch. I’ve used this video to make a point about the limits of our perceptions and human expectations about intuition…often to the exclusion of other critical elements.
The video is silly, but when you apply the perspective principle to decision-making in our lives, the point becomes quite clear. We’re human and our blinders are on whether we like it or not.
The first time I watched the video I saw the gorilla, but I missed several passes of the ball. My count was just thirteen – not the actual sixteen – and I was so bloody focused on counting that I entirely missed the changes in the backdrop. For a girl who thinks she’s aware – particularly about color and visual cues – this was a wow moment for me.
I think in the years I’ve used this clip, maybe one or two students – EVER – caught all the action. And you know what? They were my most neurodivergent students. Those who carried the burden of being different because they interacted with the world uniquely. In some cases, more accurately.
This is on my mind today because it’s such a potent reminder to me, always, to be present and accepting. My tendencies toward boldness and decisiveness can get in my way. Confidence is cool, but can be wayward, misguided.
Here’s what I mean. A silly example, but you’ll get my point. I popped a button on a favorite winter coat last week. No biggie. I’m fortunate because I have more than one hefty coat for cold days. But rather than reach for another option in the coat closet, I thought I’d just sew the runaway button back on. I was grateful it flew off while I was still at home because it’s a cutie – all scrolly and silver. I realized I like the coat…but I LOVE the buttons. Digressing. Sorry. Back to the mending…. I stopped in my tracks because I wasn’t too sure where my little sewing box was. With all the downstairs confusion with the kitchen and laundry room remodeling in recent months, I’d lost track of my little kit.
I did what a good Vicki typically does. I pondered, thinking about all of the likely hidey-holes (thank you, Wynne Leon for that term) and began a whole-house search. You know what’s coming. I lost something else — about twenty minutes of my life – wasting the window of sewing time in my search – and gave up.
Every cupboard and cabinet I opened was a bust. I expanded my hunt, exploring in highly illogical locations – like the dining room hutch. (I know…I know…but I’m famous for just storing and stashing to put things “away” and I’m my own worst enemy in that regard.)
I assumed I’d done just that, and the poor little sewing kit was doomed to some exiled location – only to be found randomly when neither needle nor thread were needed. The same way I discovered my favorite spatula! Mixed in with laundry supplies. Don’t ask.
Needing to head out, lest I be late, I grabbed another coat and sped out of the house and into my day. Still, the unsuccessful search haunted me a bit. Annoyed that I’m not more methodical when I rearrange stuff on the fly, but it’s not a new foible. Sigh.
When daughter Delaney was small, toys and homework and favorite stuffies would go missing and my calm reminder to her – always – was ‘everything is somewhere’. Sometimes we needed to call off the search party to give our eyes a rest and then begin the search anew. Wowza. That recollection nugget helped a bunch, and I stopped fussing over the dumb sewing kit. Forgot about it entirely, which was a triumph! (Yah, the thought-stopping can be a big deal for me when I’m self-annoyed. Just saying.)
Hours later, I arrived home and, in a toot, flew up the stairs to change clothes and wash up. Know what greeted me at the top of the stairs? Yup. Here’s the evidence:
I don’t remember when. It must’ve been during the downstairs shuffle of…everything…I realized my little sewing kit was a cutie and had just enough of an orange-ish tone that it complemented the artwork in the upstairs hallway. Without thinking about the function – only the way the little box looked at home by the painting – I plopped it there and for months…. months, I tell you…. I’ve passed that vignette a bazillion times per day. Hidden in plain view the entire time I searched for a needle and thread.
Do inanimate objects occasionally speak to you? Please don’t be horrified…but I swear the little sewing kit smirked and said, “Weeee…. look at me…. right here all the time!” when I finally laid eyes on her. I didn’t like the sass, but I smiled anyhow. Amazing how unaware and clueless I can be…perhaps you, too? Occasionally unable to perceive what’s squarely in front of you?
Here’s to being more mindful. And…Spoiler Alert #2! I hope you glimpse every gorilla on your path.
Vicki 😊
Victoria Ponders 
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