No two people see the same thing.  But we are often so sure that what we see is so obvious that we forget this.

Way back before we were parents, my husband and I were hiking Boca Negra canyon in New Mexico.  I pointed out a petroglyph for him to photograph.  “Bird? What bird?”  I pointed and pointed and got testy and snatched off my sunglasses.  What the heck?  Where did the petroglyph go.

With my polarized glasses on, I could see it.  Looking through the camera lens he saw nothing of the kind. Then he added a polarized filter.  “I think we need to head back so I can get what I missed.”  Now he could see it all.

More often than not, the problem is now when I don’t see things.  At 5’8″ I am the short person in the family.  They can see over things that I can’t.  You’d be amazed how often that’s a problem.  “What do you mean you couldn’t see me waving at you?  I’ve been doing it for five minutes.”

But we’ve also learned that by comparing notes, we get a much more complete view of various things and this isn’t just because of the differnce of six inches.  My background is social sciences and humanities.  My husband is a business major with a passion for astronomy.  Our son is an engineering student.

And the best thing about that kid?  He’s perfectly willing to quiz a farmer or a logger about something.  “Oh, now I see.  Thank you, man.  Have a good day.”

Me?  I’ve always suspected that we built the Tower of Babel with our own two hands and our unwillingness to see what others see and to listen to their perspectives.