Sight is a most beloved sense. Like Annie Dillard, I like looking at things, especially things in nature, by attempting to silence the “useless interior babble” (705) that clouds my vision. After reading Dillard’s essay, the word “transcendence” automatically came to my mind. True seeing is a transcendent experience. You leave the confines of your mind and body and begin to “sail on solar wind” (705). Dillard’s poetic style of writing contributes to this feeling of transcendence. I get lost in some of her descriptive passages. I’m there with her, pausing motionless, watching reflections of clouds form in the creek. We leave our bodies and float above the water as spirits. What we see enters our souls in unexplainable ways.
Dillard’s last point about true seeing being a gift and a surprise gripped me. To see, we must be open to it, yes, we must be ready and willing, but we also must be patient for grace to embrace us and lift the scales from our eyes. I was reminded slightly of the Passover image: sandals on our feet, staves in our hands, ready to leave when called to do so. Somehow true sight is found but not sought. I find it because God opens my eyes.
I agree with you -- sight, for most of us, is the default sense. It has priority in almost every occasion. Seeing, on the other hand, begins with sight and moves to another plane of understanding. It is, as you say, transcendent.
ReplyDeleteVery Good response.