What does it mean to see? Part II

I've spent most of my time in Phoenix, unlike Portland, with cane in hand. Depending on where we are we can be met with a whole range of responses to the cane, from complete indifference (Costco - you'd better also have a cart, if only for your own protection, because people don't seem to care if you can't see them coming), to complete deference (Finding that you gain attention and assistance that no one else would be getting). It can seem like a case of "He wants his cake, and to eat it too," when we throw the desire to be inconspicuous in. I sometimes like to think that I'm simply so attractive and radiate such happy goodwill that there isn't anyone who isn't attracted to me and, therefore, must help me, or worse, stare at me.

I'm not completely blind, though I must often look it. Standing alone on the train, with cane and sunglasses, it's usually not difficult to spot the unabashed stares. When I know that my admirer has seen me focus on an object or another person, perhaps them, the stare becomes a quizzical tilt of the head, a "Hey, he's blind but..." Occasionally, that tilt will become a question directed at me, which I'm generally happy to answer. It engages me and makes me feel a little less the freak. Indeed, I can show off a little with my usual "Only one in thirty legally blind people are totally blind," as well as stories of my clever little adjustments to my limitations - how I navigate, eat, converse, socialize, etc. But the problem is in the constant state of standing out. Most of us can blend, if only in our cars in traffic, when we don't care to engage or be engaged by those around us. Even a casual look, that glance down, then up, that many women catch men giving - that evaluative scan that asks; "Are you blind?" "Can you see at all?" "How did you know to step out of my way?" "Are you fit?" "Are you hot?" "Are you unattractive?"

To be able to see, when not exercising the option to blend, gives you the opportunity to decide to engage any question, any evaluation, any comment at least partly on your own terms, when you want to engage. Being sighted both protects me with the ability to discern who and when I want to engage. I don't always have that option with cane in hand or in situations where I have to be helped. Being sighted, in this context, means that we can be independent, not merely in the sense that we don't require assistance, but in the sense that, when we want to, we can remain apart - apart in our cars, on the bus or the train, in the store, movie theater or restaurant where we can find the restroom without assistance.

There are also the more obvious aspects of being sighted: to run without fear, whether for exercise or simply the joy of chasing your dog or a Frisbee; to read to yourself or another. In short, to be sighted means to appreciate all in the visual world. It is difficult to write this without counterbalancing immediately with what it means to lose that sense, but I'm going to try here in order to save that subject for a blog of its own.

The bottom line for this blog is that eyesight means independence. It practically becomes a metaphor for independence. It also represents consciousness, almost directly. Borrowing from Blakeslee and Blakeslee in The Body Has a Mind of Its Own, consciousness is predictive and embodied. From the most simple predictions, say a baseball arching toward a glove, to the most complex, this expression on my lover's face will lead to the next and a tone of voice and proclamation to follow, to the most subtle, my toes on this ledge sharpens the sense that I have in common with all that I might jump - and the terror that might accompany such a common shared perception - all represent a predictive consciousness that ties not merely to our own bodies, but to those of others - to their feelings and their predictions. So, the distinction becomes somewhat more clear between a desire for separateness born of independence to isolation or connection tied to the consciousness of ourselves and others. Eyesight connects us in this deeper sense, makes us who we are in a broader and deeper context.

I'll stop here in light of the temptation to treat paired opposites of eyesight and blindness. I really do want that later to have a blog of it's own.