The phrase "what we chose to see" suggests a deliberate, active engagement with the world, rather than a passive reception of objective truth. It implies that our perception is not a mirror reflecting reality, but a lens, shaped by our desires, biases, and experiences, which filters and highlights certain aspects while obscuring others. This selective vision has profound implications, influencing everything from our interpretation of art and history to our personal relationships and understanding of societal issues. By examining instances where perception is demonstrably curated, we can better grasp how our individual and collective choices shape the realities we inhabit.
One powerful illustration of chosen vision comes from the art world. Consider the Impressionist movement, which emerged in late 19th-century France. Artists like Claude Monet and Pierre-Auguste Renoir famously moved their easels outdoors, seeking to capture the fleeting effects of light and atmosphere. Their focus was not on the precise, photographic rendering of a scene, but on the impression it made on the eye at a particular moment. When viewers first encountered Monet's "Impression, Sunrise" (1872), many were scandalized, accustomed to the polished detail of academic painting. They saw, or rather chose not to see, the artistic merit in the blurred brushstrokes and vibrant colours. They were looking for a different kind of truth, a more literal representation. Over time, however, public perception shifted. What was once dismissed as unfinished or crude began to be appreciated for its innovative portrayal of sensory experience. The choice of what to value in art, and therefore what to "see," is not inherent in the artwork itself but is a cultural and historical negotiation.
History, too, is a prime example of selective vision, often dictated by the victors or those in power. The narrative of Christopher Columbus's "discovery" of America, for instance, was long presented as a heroic tale of exploration and European triumph. This perspective deliberately overlooked the existence of millions of indigenous people who had inhabited the continent for millennia, their cultures, and their sophisticated societies. The "discovery" narrative chose to see an empty land ripe for colonization, a vision that conveniently justified conquest and exploitation. It took centuries of activism and a re-evaluation of historical sources for a more inclusive and accurate understanding to emerge, one that acknowledges the pre-existing populations and the devastating impact of European arrival. This shift in historical "seeing" demonstrates how collective biases can be challenged and altered, revealing previously ignored or deliberately unseen realities.
On a personal level, our chosen perceptions profoundly affect our relationships. In romantic partnerships, individuals might choose to focus on their partner's positive traits, overlooking minor annoyances or character flaws, especially in the early stages. This selective attention can create a romanticized view, a reality built on what they want to see. Conversely, in conflict, the same individuals might choose to focus solely on the perceived negative actions of their partner, interpreting every behaviour through a lens of suspicion or resentment. This selective focus can escalate disagreements, as each person reinforces their chosen interpretation of the other's intentions. The objective reality of the situation often becomes secondary to the subjective reality constructed by what each person chooses to perceive and emphasize.
Ultimately, the concept of "what we chose to see" is not an indictment of human fallibility but a recognition of our active role in constructing meaning. Our vision is not a passive window but a dynamic process, influenced by our internal states and external influences. Whether in appreciating art, understanding history, or navigating personal connections, the choices we make about what to focus on, what to interpret, and what to value fundamentally shape our experience of the world. Recognizing this agency empowers us to be more mindful of our own perceptual filters, encouraging a more critical and potentially more empathetic engagement with the realities around us.