Selective Vision

I recently listened to an interview on NPR with filmmaker Errol Morris that got me thinking again about a topic I've had on my mind. Morris has a new book of essays examining a range of photographs, addressing the question of to what degree the photograph portrays reality, or what portion or story of reality the photographer chooses to reveal (or not) in capturing a particular image.

This idea, of the narrow, specific glimpse of a larger more complex reality and the effects that focus has on perception has been bouncing around my thoughts. I find it fascinating that it is so easy, from a few photographs, to construct an entire "reality" that seems unshakable. It is there. It is evidence. How could it be otherwise? But really there is more. Even when the photograph truly does depict a glimpse of the truth of a situation, there is more. More depth and breadth and messiness to the full reality that risks getting lost in the glimpse.

This topic could head off in so many different ways. But what particularly interests me in this moment is how this question relates to the way I view others' lives, and how I look at my own. I touched briefly on this a few posts back, talking about the idea of rhythm and the desire to find that idealized image in my daily life. There are a small number of blogs that I read regularly and find inspiration from, and as I wrote before, these blogs draw me in, spark creativity, introduce me to new ways of seeing things and motivate me to make changes or continue on the path I'm taking. That is one side of the coin.

The other side is that I can find myself feeling behind, lacking, not able to match up to what I admire about these other women and families; to the reality that I have constructed from the glimpses of their truths. Their lives always look so put together, they seem so natural at what they do, their homes are filled with lovely things and their days with rhythm and intention. And that reality seems unshakable. It is there. It is evidence. How could it be otherwise?

And it feeds my discontentment with the state of things here. But then I think about the corners, bits of walls, glimpses in our house that are lovely to me. That catch me, if just for a fraction of a second, as I walk by, and can bring a fleeting smile or feeling of contentment. Though perhaps not plentiful, they are real. But so is the random table blocking the fireplace in the living room because there are one too many entertainment centers in the room (for months). Or the boys' "art" table that is so overflowingly full it's hard to see, or the precarious pile of various magazines and books and binders perched on top of the basket (that contains what, I'm not sure) on top of which this computer rests when not in use, or the layer of dust that covers more surfaces than I care to admit... You get the picture and its the same for our daily lives.

Which gets me thinking, what if I just took pictures of those corners, bits of walls, glimpses, carefully excluding the piles and dust next door? If I honed in on those times in our days when peace finds its way in and we manage to be engaged in an activity that is inspiring and intentional? Selective vision. Would our house, our life, look like I wish it would? And what would that mean? That we're closer to the image I hold onto, the "reality" I've constructed of others' lives, than I think and it's all just a matter of perspective, of focus and selective vision?

I find myself tempted to do an experiment: to go through the house taking pictures of those places that consistently make me smile, put them together, and see if this gives me a new perspective on our home. Likewise with our days. But then I wonder, is that not telling enough of the truth? Where is the balance between seeing positively - creating the truth you want, versus lacking the depth of the fullness (the messiness) of the reality?

I will admit I find myself generally tipped toward the messiness of reality end of the balance and perhaps could do with a little shift in perspective. So I am curious what effect choosing selective vision for the purpose of creating the truth I want, emphasizing the lovely, the intentional, that exists could have. Yet for me there has got to be more balance. I find myself seeking out, in the reading I do, the inclusion of that broader, messier reality, to round out the truth of the matter. Often that is more inspiring to me in its honesty and fullness than the lovely and intentional glimpses can be.