Blind Spot
15 October 2012
I am guilty of having the most
dreadful blind spots. In fact, perhaps
they’re less blind spots than blind craters.
But my disability does not merely run to the visual field, because I am
tone deaf as well. Oh, I can see and
hear perfectly fine, that’s not the problem.
It’s more a case of not being able to see and hear, that which I do not
wish to see and hear.
There are some areas in my life
in which I am completely blind and utterly deaf. Faults and mistakes I make time and
again. Merely automatic reflexes, which
I have no cognitive knowledge of doing or not doing in some cases. Silly little things. Yet often it’s those silly little things that
annoy others the most. Being small and
silly they would be so easy to fix. Yet
to fix them, you have to remember that they’re there in the first place. And no amount of pointing them out will
really make a difference, unless you’re able to internalise a change.
I don’t see dust. Really, I don’t. And to me, it is as if it doesn’t exist. I don’t particularly care for dust, yet I
just don’t really notice it. Perhaps I
would in obvious places right in front of my eyes, but my domestic miracle
worker takes care of these for me and as far as I know, my home is dust free. In certain places I am particularly oblivious
to its existence. Dust on a fridge? Seriously?
Dust on picture frames, lamp shades and light fittings? For real?
Who knew? And then don’t forget
I’m short, so dust on a fridge would never really bother me – I simply can’t
reach to see it. Well, perhaps this
excuse doesn’t hold water much, as I probably wouldn’t see it even if I was
tall. Maybe it’s the same with men and
toilet seats? Luckily I’ve been blessed
with three considerate men, who flip back when they’re done.
I suspect that we all have our
very own unique blind spots. My mom says
that it never naturally occurs to her to close a door or a drawer when she’s
done with it. She has to make a
conscious decision to do so each and every time as it’s not merely
automatic. You can see what she’s been
doing at any given time, by following very simple clues. Even a novice Sherlock Holmes could figure it
out. Open Tupperware drawer – aha! Needed a container for leftovers or
something. Open cutlery drawer –
aha! Spoon needed for leftovers. Open fridge – aha! Packed leftovers away in fridge. Open cupboard under kitchen sink – aha! Took out dishwashing liquid to wash pot from
last night after leftovers were scraped out.
Open back door – aha! Quickly
went to back pantry to get meat from the freezer. Open freezer – aha! Got meat from freezer for supper. This does not bother me. Has never bothered me and will never bother
me. I grew up with her, yet I automatically
close door and drawers behind me.
Without it being a chore, I simply walk behind her, if I happen to be in
the same area, and close up as I go. Not
to nag her or point out her faults, just to help her, especially if I’m in the
same space. She would do something similar
for me. No biggie. It’s not like I’m anal about it, because they
could really stand open for all I care.
But perhaps this is an overly
easy example of blind spots. Because
some blind spots are less tangible and those are a bit more problematic. I would simply love for Grant to be more complimentary
with regards to my looks (okay, so the raw material he has to work with is not
that great, but work with it!), however it just doesn’t occur to him. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t find me
gorgeous, because deep down, I know he does.
He tells me so occasionally, but clearly I am just more needy in this
way. This is not his fault, but
mine. And because it is not tangible, it
is a slightly more difficult blindspot.
We had some or other fancy doo one night and I dressed up really nicely,
expecting him to compliment me naturally without me giving him leading signals
in advance. He was perhaps being a bit
obtuse and finally after me blatantly asking him outright, he cottoned on to what
I was after and told me that I looked beautiful, which somehow had a bit of a
hollow ring to it. When I questioned him
about it, his reply was that I obviously looked beautiful, as in duh!!! And just to seal the deal, he said “I
wouldn’t marry a dog”. There are no
words. He had clearly dealt with this
issue now for all eternity.
But I can’t blame him, because
his “complimentary-blind-spots” are my “dust-blind-spots”. And truth be told, the dust is just a silly
little example. The mere tip of the proverbial
ice berg. I have loads more. I eventually tune out when my kids nag, going
to a happy place in my head, where I can’t hear their voices at all, becoming
completely tone deaf. I seriously suck
at my time management skills. Jeez, who
am I actually kidding here. What time
management skills? I don’t plan well
enough in advance. I leave things until
the last minute and I procrastinate. I
cut things too fine, when it comes to time, which annoys the living daylights
out of me. And so the list goes on.
But here’s the thing. None of us are perfect. Thank heavens! Life would be far too boring. I will try with the dust thing. I really will, but chances are that by this
afternoon, when I’ve fetched the kids from school, and they’re busy bickering
in the car, I will tune out the noise, and think about something else
completely. And whilst in my happy
place, the dust moats will probably go to the furthest recesses of my
mind. To be forgotten about again.
Ha ha ha ha ha "I wouldn't marry a dog" ha ha ha ha I could not stop laughing!!! BTW Helen you looked beautiful on Friday night ;)
ReplyDeleteHmmm, dit klink alles baie bekend.. :)
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