Every now and then, I’ll use my lunch break to sit on a park bench. It’s regenerative on multiple levels. I’ve managed to see a couple of blue-gray gnatcatchers. I knew to look for them because an app on my phone heard them in the area. Likewise, I wasn’t surprised when a couple of hikers passed by on the path. That’s what I’d expect to see in a park on a lovely April afternoon.
As I tried to knock out my “morning pages” in my notebook, I glanced over onto the ground and there, sitting on a little rock, was a metallic green beetle. It had symmetrical white spots on its sides. With the dark magic of AI, I was able to identify it as a six-spotted tiger beetle. In my limited experience with tigers, I’ve yet to come across a bright green cat, but this is what the science caste chose to name these bugs.
After reflecting on the pros and cons of its three-year lifespan and wondering where this little insect was in that journey, it occurred to me that I was genuinely surprised to see this tiger beetle. Though common in our state, it was a first to me. I wasn’t expecting to see it and, had I not looked down, I probably would not have seen it.
David Brooks has a book called To Know a Person. I’m still reading it, but I passed a chapter where he tries to define personhood. I have no idea what his metaphysical commitments are, but at least one of the moves he makes is “constructionism”. It’s the theory in cognitive science that every single person actively builds their own perception of reality. We are embodied points of view. Our brains are constantly predicting and making comparisons and filling in the gaps with what we are seeing.
Brooks talks about the video of basketball players on a court. A text prompts the viewer to count how many times the team wearing white passes the ball. I remember seeing this video in college. At the end of the video, the researchers ask the viewer, “Did you see the gorilla?” Upon second watch, you can clearly see a man in a gorilla suit stroll through the game and pose for the camera before walking off screen. But you weren’t expecting to see a gorilla, so why would you look for one?
This is far from his point in the chapter or the book, but I can see the immediate application to the supernatural and paranormal phenomena. Just as I didn’t expect to see a shiny, verdant insect on the ground, I don’t expect to see anything out of the ordinary. Most days, at least. In fact, Modernism has so drained the West of its magic and mystery that we don’t notice the materialistic air we constantly inhale.
You’re not expecting to see a Civil War soldier patrolling in the woods behind your house, so why would you actively look for it? But the first time you do, you expect to see it again and again. It’s not that you’re manifesting or attracting it. You’re noticing it. Now, sometimes that can breed a reciprocal attention that one might not want. But my point is simply that we have been taught, by word and by example, that this world is all there is. The world of spirits, let alone the Lord of spirits (Jesus the Christ), is the last thing we expect to actually experience day to day.
And so we don’t.