The walk from my apartment to downtown New Haven is a little over 15 minutes. It turns out that this is more than enough time to think of hundreds of random thoughts and ideas.

Sometimes, I try to do walking meditation, but the thoughts still pour in as quickly as ever. Some of them recur enough that I feel like they might be somehow significant, and the topic of perception is one of the most common.

For those who know me, you might be familiar with my slightly eccentric view of the world. I really don't give much thought as to whether or not the things we see in day to day life are reality, but instead view them as sort of manifestations of our perception. Without this notion of 'I feel the cold air on my skin, so therefore it must be cold out.', I tend to find myself asking some rather strange questions.

A big one is "Why does the world appear this way?". Sometimes, when I'm carrying along a little more hubris, I think something like "Why do I choose to see the world this way?". This may seem a bit absurd, especially when I reiterate that I'm not asking these questions in a metaphorical way. However, you can easily imagine the difference between two lovers kissing in the rain, and a homeless man trying to stay dry in the rain. Why does the man choose to see hell and the couple to see heaven? Perception is the root of this, and whether it is controllable is not something clear to me, but it's at least interesting to see how much of a role it plays.

Another gut feeling I have as I simply walk through town is that many things are not as I remember them. Actually, it's more like nothing is ever as I remember it. Some days, the town green seems huge, other days, I don't even notice crossing it. Some days there are temporary changes, construction, fallen trees, whatever it is. These kinds of things are interesting to ponder because they force you to accept the fact that the world isn't especially well represented by an oil painting. By that, I mean, that our memories are simply snapshots, they're not anything close to reality on the grand scale. Truly, it's the difference between looking at a photograph of a sunset, and seeing one happen in front of your eyes.

There is another kind of surprise hidden in the perception labyrinth, and that is when something you thought you knew transforms into something entirely different. Imagine knowing a neighbor or friend for a while, always finding them somewhat attractive. Then, somehow, something they say or do causes you to find them inexplicably beautiful. Sometimes this is a fleeting thing and it just disappears soon after the moment expires, but other times, it just sticks. Every time you look at this person, you wonder what you'll be able to find in their eyes.

This kind of thing happens all the time, and yet we don't often stop to recognize it and appreciate the auspiciousness of it. Of course, despite my criticism here, I am no role model. I think a great contributing factor to my roughly 3 years of being single is that I've got perceptual blindspots up the wazoo. All too often, a budding infatuation has been cut off at the knees by distractions such as work or the persuit of some esoteric hobby (cough... Go... cough). The real shame is that all too often a break in awareness has caused me to give people reason to believe that I'm not interested in them, when the truth is usually that I simply forgot to stay awake.

At any rate, perception is an interesting thing. It's where phrases like "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder" stem from. It's not necessarily something we need to strive to achieve, but it's worth wondering how great the world would be if we could just see it as a beautiful, happy place to live in. Without being delusional, I think that a little bit of perceptual optimism could go a long way to making a pleasant reality, at least in the narrow context of our own lives. With luck, this would help make it more true on a global sense, but hey, taking care of yourself is challenging enough, right?