
Dear Reader,
One of the things writers must learn to do is observe. If only we could see ourselves as clearly as others do, Word Raccoon says, holding a magnifying glass in her left hand.
I remember riding in a van on the way to an art museum with a college class when another student began talking about philosophy.
At one point he said “The eye cannot see itself.”
“Wait,” I said. “Wait. Let me get my notebook.”
I wrote it down immediately into the tiny tablet I had shoved into my pocket along with a short pen for the trip.
Later that year, it became the first line of the first short story I ever had published.
I’ve been thinking about that sentence again lately.
The eye cannot see itself.
Not without a mirror, WR says.
Human beings possess two curious traits that are equally odd, equally frustrating, and, in their own way, oddly endearing. We can think far more highly of ourselves than we ought to. Or we can despise ourselves for imagined shortcomings, or for faults that are nowhere near as important as we believe.
We cannot see ourselves, sometimes.
WR says that’s evident, by the way some people dress. That’s rude, my furry friend! I assure you, she’s affectionately joking.
Anyway, that’s where generous observers become invaluable.
Sometimes someone notices a strength in us that we had never even imagined was there. Sometimes they laugh affectionately at a flaw we’ve worried over for years, revealing that it isn’t nearly as defining as we’d thought.
And when that happens, something changes. We change.
It becomes easier to notice the hidden strengths in others, too, when we have received that grace.
We begin seeing qualities they may not recognize in themselves.
Not flattering people. Not seeing them as perfect.
But seeing them whole. Caring about them flaws and all.
I like nothing better than to tell people the things I observe and enjoy about them. (The positive things, I mean.)
The eye cannot see itself.
Perhaps that’s as it should be.
Wait, I have strayed from my premise. Forgive me. It is late and WR is tired.
Being a curious, careful observer is crucial for writers. We need to remember that our characters can’t see themselves, either. Remember how in most novels we need our characters to change? (In real life, we accept people, but in novels, an author must, in most instances, bring about change or why is there a novel?) We need our characters to change, and that is by helping them see themselves.
WR, does any of this make sense?
Yes, WR, I miss poetry, too.
Drema