I’ve
got a friend that should be the first person you call any time
you need to find something.
It
should probably be qualified that I’m not talking about something
you’ve lost, like your car keys or television remote. This isn’t
about misplaced items and your pleas to St. Anthony. Instead…
You’re
at a place where you are surrounded by thousands of people. Perhaps
a concert or a theme park, and there’s someone there you need
to meet. Someone you can’t just call, and don’t have a specific
time to meet them or specific way to navigate to them. This friend
will see them first, and usually from some point of view that
defies all logic for being able to see them.
You’re
out in the woods, looking for a particular type of tree, to find
deer antlers, or to collect wild berries. Bring this friend along,
and you are going to find more of what you want in less time than
you ever would on your own or with someone else.
I
remember those magic eye scramble puzzles and looking for Waldo.
Though very different, the first idea when presented with them
was the mass confusion set in front of you. Sometimes it took
a moment to focus on the task at hand. A moment to eliminate the
chatter, so to speak.
I’m
colorblind. I don’t know how colorblind, since I think I can see
reds and blues and greens and browns. But I have definitely had
moments where even separating green from purple didn’t go too
well for me. And I have others tell me I’m wrong at times about
my thoughts involving reds and blues and browns.
The
world, in general, plays to that game of predator and prey around
us, where camouflage and disguise matter. Blending in is not just
a neat trick, but a survival must. And—in a figurative way—there
you are, standing on a blanket of white trying to spot a mountain
goat, or staring out onto a winter scene with snow and rocks looking
for a snow leopard, or trying to see a snowshoe hare any time
of year.
But
it doesn’t always work. Does it? That snowshoe hare? White fur
isn’t as effective during a winter with little to no snow accumulating.
What
sets some of us up to be better than others at spotting things?
You see commercials all the time for sunglasses that promise to
filter out the bad, highlight the good, and give you terrific
vision. For some reason, it doesn’t seem like many of those commercials
are for products that are selling much better than pet rocks.
Is the answer to all this something an optometrist could tell
us, but nothing they can correct?
Obviously,
there are quite likely identifiable factors involved. Ask me to
tell the difference between a deep red, a dark green and a brown,
and there’s a good chance I’m going to have a quizzical look of
frustration on my face. A look that expresses pain and difficulties
another person doesn’t feel or understand. So, sure. Factors that
differ based on the person involved.
But
that friend of mine and their ability to quickly spot and identify
things? That’s not perfect eyesight (they wear glasses and also
put in a claim of being colorblind). There’s something else going
on.
I’ve
always been impressed by folks that have a way of approaching
anything from a slightly different point of view. They often come
up with solutions to problems that others didn’t (or can’t) identify.
They troubleshoot issues from new angles. And, they usually create
new methods that replace outdated ways things have always been
done.
There
are times when I can focus in on projects or efforts. I have a
knack—yes, I said a knack, which is a fancy way of saying I’m
about as solid on explaining it as trying to understand what makes
a great pair of sunglasses—for being able to sweep away clutter,
zoom in on what needs to be done, and finish things off.
I
can’t explain it. But then again, I also can’t tell you where
your car keys are.