{"id":4352,"date":"2009-05-08T08:15:20","date_gmt":"2009-05-08T12:15:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/?p=4352"},"modified":"2009-08-28T15:34:20","modified_gmt":"2009-08-28T19:34:20","slug":"what-we-miss-when-we-shutter-our-senses","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/2009\/05\/what-we-miss-when-we-shutter-our-senses\/","title":{"rendered":"What We Miss When We Shutter Our Senses"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Magic<\/a><\/p>\n

[Above image, “Magic Eye” by Jennifer Love, first appeared on TrekEarth<\/a>.]<\/em><\/p>\n

From whiskey river<\/em><\/a> (italicized portion):<\/p>\n

Beside the grand history of the glaciers and their own, the mountain streams sing the history of every avalanche or earthquake and of snow, all easily recognized by the human ear, and every word evoked by the falling leaf and drinking dear, beside a thousand other facts so small and spoken by the stream in so low a voice the human ear cannot hear them. The wing scars the sky, making a path inevitably as the deer in snow, and the winds all know it and tell it though we hear it not.<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(John Muir, John of the Mountains<\/em> [source<\/a>]<\/em>)<\/p>\n

Not from whiskey river<\/em>:<\/p>\n

When your eyes are functioning well you don’t see your eyes. If your eyes are imperfect you see spots in front of them. That means there are some lesions in the retina or wherever, and because your eyes aren’t working properly, you feel them. In the same way, you don’t hear your ears. If you have a ringing in your ears it means there’s something wrong with your ears. Therefore, if you do feel yourself, there must be something wrong with you. Whatever you have, the sensation of I<\/em> is like spots in front of your eyes — it means something’s wrong with your functioning.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Alan Watts, Ego<\/em><\/a>)<\/p>\n

…and:<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Sonnet<\/strong><\/p>\n

A man talking to his ex-wife on the phone.
\nHe has loved her voice and listens with attention
\nto every modulation of its tone. Knowing
\nit intimately. Not knowing what he wants
\nfrom the sound of it, from the tendered civility.
\nHe studies, out the window, the seed shapes
\nof the broken pods of ornamental trees.
\nThe kind that grow in everyone’s garden, that no one
\nbut horticulturists can name. Four arched chambers
\nof pale green, tiny vegetal proscenium arches,
\na pair of black tapering seeds bedded in each chamber.
\nA wish geometry, miniature, Indian or Persian,
\nlovers or gods in their apartments. Outside, white,
\npatient animals, and tangled vines, and rain.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Robert Hass [source<\/a>]<\/em>)<\/p>\n

…and:<\/p>\n

People take reality for granted… Reality seems so simple. We just open our eyes and there it is. But that doesn’t mean it is simple.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Magician Teller, of Penn & Teller; quoted in Wired<\/em>: “Magic and the Brain – The Neuroscience of Illusion<\/a>“)<\/p>\n

Finally, as long as we’ve given a microphone to Teller — the silent one — in that last bit, let’s give him the center of the stage, too… and then ignore him:<\/p>\n

<\/object><\/p>\n

YouTube has a ton of P&T clips; it was hard to select just one to include. Other favorites show them:<\/p>\n