I Spy

"I spy four fish, three red and one green, A box and a pencil, fingerprints on your screen;

A thought and a poem, a gentle haiku, Words that subdue, break through, and ring true."

I made two New Year's Resolutions this year – 206 days later, I wonder how well I followed them. The first was to stay more organized... [hopefully leading to earlier sleep]... hmmmmmmm. The second? To read more novels.

Well, I began this year in a last minute frenzy to find and read a "life-impacting" novel for a question on the Mac Artsci supplementary application. Thank you Jennifer for suggesting José Saramago's "Blindness", one of the Nobel-laureate's more famous novels, characterized by his writing style, which I find very interesting, as his sentences stretch long distances as he uses sparsely placed periods, with ideas and dialogue flowing without stop while expressing some of the most difficult, oppressive thoughts and instincts that govern human nature, and in this near horror-tragedy where a case of complete "white-blindness" pandemic spreads across the nation, he expresses our deep and darkest thoughts as he leaves humans to cope - socially, mentally, and physically – in this dark, cruel, world.

Many would agree that Saramago's "Blindness" is not an easy read; with the disturbing imagery and dark themes that underlay the pages – but it is one book I would recommend [especially over the summer; personally, I'm picking up more of his novels] – as these harsh realities paint a perceived picture of the world we live in now – blindness.

I am not one to often refer to the world as a harsh reality; and don't take me wrong – I'm not. The pains and the imagery in the book are not to be taken literally, of course – but in Saramago's powerful allegories, the blindness encases and shadows our world – whether we live in a happy-go-lucky mood, or live in paranoia.

For all the scientists, biologists, and researchers out there – what would you say your most important tool is? I would argue, the microscope – it has allowed us to discover cells and microorganisms, and has led us to the development of more theoretical and practical medicines. But before we can see anything or observe our specimen, we must focus the lens – or else, we're blind to whatever we're looking for. Choosing the right lens and using that fine knob to adjust our vision is crucial for any progress or discovery. I believe that this is the fundamental cause of human blindness – we are searching for the light, for our discovery, for our goals – but we're too often out of focus.

This is marked everywhere. Half the time we fail to see the big picture; in the other half, we miss the details. As a tutor and as a student, this is why we often miss the point, or miss the marks. To study a novel down to its words can lose the value of its themes; to view the general plot of a novel ignores the style of the author used to produce a profound message. To study every math problem to the pencil mark allows students to memorize moves without understanding the fundamentals; to only read the formulas can lead to huge misconceptions and calculation flaws when the test comes along.

Politicians land themselves in the same dilemma. Huge decisions, small decisions; unions and governments; staff and citizens – all have different views and options. Perhaps some unions these days are too stubborn over the minor details, and fail to communicate because they fail to see the larger picture. Perhaps those government officials that make big decisions too often miss the minorities and the less fortunate in an overall desperate effort to boost the economy.

And then the hours spent at the library with Scholastic's I-Spy books – searching for symbols and knick-knacks listed in a rhyming puzzle, found in a mess of pictures and colours. Sometimes we look too much at the general picture, and fail to find our goals; other times, our close-detail scrimmaging loses the theme of the picture, and takes so long that the value of finding the treasure, the picture, is lost.

Too often we're just simply – out of focus – and our eyes, our thoughts, our values – are out of perspective, and blind. Perhaps the greatest danger is that we do not believe we are blind – and that we pretend to know, to understand. But what happens when there is a greater force out there, one that can see - just like in Saramago's novel? What happens when we admit we are blind – what is there left to do? Should we listen? What do you hear?