Look at the picture to the left. What do you see?
Is it an old, ugly, sad woman or a beautiful, young maiden, flaunting her profile? Technically, it’s both. The picture is an optical illusion which features two images. Most people immediately see one or the other. In fact, most people generally struggle to see the other image until it’s pointed out to them.
(If you are still struggling to see them both, check out this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7f1G6Nx5VDw)
Optical illusions such as this are quite fun, and can teach us a lot about perspective. Once the brain sees something a certain way, it requires a conscious decision–and sometimes even some assistance–to change the way it perceives that thing. In other words, until the second image is pointed out and we actively choose to see it, we can be completely convinced that what we are seeing is the only image shown.
However, to me, the real illusion is not that the above image is of two different women, but that it actually is only a blend of black and white. There really is no distinct image at all. Our minds are what “connect the dots” to create the image we end up seeing. Thus, we sort of create the image that we end up seeing. Our minds trick themselves into seeing things that actually are not there. The same is true of many things in life. We can “perceive” things that aren’t, in fact, what we think they are.
For example, my mind once “perceived” a silent, yet sharp quarrel with my sweet wife. We were driving on a nice, long road trip to beautiful Glacier National Park in northern Montana. We began our journey from Utah, and embarked on 12+ hour road trip with snacks, supplies, and a rambunctious infant. I believe it was shortly after we passed Helena, Montana that the illusion began. I no longer remember exactly what was said, but I remember how it felt.
It started with a disagreement over how to deal with the screaming child in the back seat. From that point, every word seemed to make the emotional cut deeper. Something as simple as my wife asking for a snack became an attack. “Why did she ask so impolitely?” I thought. “Have I not done enough to make her happy already?” My negative thoughts grew from discomfort to complete animosity. “I spent all this time planning this trip, and she doesn’t even appreciate it. All she cares about is herself.” Every word I spoke was riddled with covert hostility.
Soon, there were no more words. I had nothing to say. “Why share my feelings with someone who will not appreciate them?” I told myself. “She doesn’t even want to be here. I’ll talk as soon as she shows some gratitude for all of the hard work I’ve done.”
It was a long and lonely drive. Stubborn silence became a sanctuary for my self pity.
It wasn’t until we finally arrived at the park that my illusion was lifted. We rounded a tight turn in the shadow of a towering mountain. When we came around the bend, my perspective changed. We were greeted with a spectacular view of crystal clear water reflecting the grand, solemn mountains that had drawn people from all over the world. We decided to pull over and check it out, My wife jumped out of the car and ran to the water with the excitement and energy of a child. As I observed the glassy, pure water, my mind also became clear.
I saw my wife so full of joy and curiosity. I couldn’t help but shutter at the thought that this was the person whom I had been shunning and silently cursing. The person who I care about the most. My best friend. My soul mate. How could I have been so blind? I had fallen for the emotional illusion. I was seeing the “ugly, old hag” when the person in front of me was the “fair maiden” I had fallen in love with. All of the negative feelings I had harbored were fake. She had no ill feelings toward me. It was all an illusion.
I reflect on that experience now, and just laugh at the irony of it all. I nearly sabotaged the trip the I had painstakingly planned–all because of my pride. My mind and heart had created a false image that was not even there. My selfishness connected the dots, and it literally required mountains to change my perspective.
When you look at those closest to you, what do you see? Do you see the “ugly old lady” (or man) or the “beautiful maiden” (or beau)? Take the time to think about it, and remember that the strongest illusion is the one we create ourselves. I hope that my tale of self-deception can give you a chance to see the beauty in everyone around you.