Dice and dominoes may also be used to restore to eyes and mind the mobility, without which there can be no proper central fixation and, consequently, no normal seeing.
Take three or four dice, throw them on a table, glance quickly from one to another and then, after a second, turn away or close the eyes and name the numbers appearing on their upper faces. If the game is played by two people (as it always must be in the case of children), the instructor should throw the dice, give the pupil a second in which to glance from one to the other, then cover them with his hand and ask for the numbers. This procedure encourages rapid shifting of the attention and the eyes, and at the same time stimulates the interpreting mind in ways which will be described when we come to the subject of “flashing.”
Dominoes can also be used to break the habit of staring, and to spur the eyes and mind into the indispensable condition of mobility. Procure a set of dominoes—preferably a set which goes up to double nine, or even to double twelve. Arrange a random selection of the dominoes in, say, three rows of eight or ten each, within the lid of a cardboard box. Wedge them tightly, or glue them into place, so that the lid may be handled without upsetting the dominoes. Stand the lid on edge upon a table, so that the mosaic of dominoes faces you, as you sit at a convenient distance regarding them.
Alternatively, if distant vision is beyond your powers, hold the lid in your hand, where the dominoes can be easily seen, increasing the distance as vision improves. Now, as rapidly as you can, name the numbers in the upper halves of the first row of dominoes; then in the lower halves; then in the upper and lower halves, successively, of the other rows. Do this without any thought of test-passing, with mind relaxed and eyes easily moving from domino to domino, and blinking at frequent intervals. Close the eyes for a few seconds between each row. Then start again, and name the number of dots, first, in each horizontal line of every figure on the upper and lower halves of the dominoes, next in each vertical line, next in the diagonals. Then complicate the procedure a little by counting the total number of dots in the vertical lines of the upper and lower figures of each domino taken together.
Valuable in all cases of defective vision associated with strain and staring, these domino drills, together with the others which will be described in the chapter on “flashing,” are particularly useful in cases of astigmatism.
Astigmatism occurs, when the radius of curvature of the cornea is not the same in all meridians. Light rays passing through this distorted medium are focused in an irregular way. In many sufferers, the condition shows a considerable measure of variability. Spectacles tend to fix the cornea rigidly in that particular condition of distortion present at the moment of the oculist’s examination. Consequently there is little hope of recovery, so long as one wears artificial lenses. But if the astigmatic person will discard his artificial lenses, learn the art of passive and dynamic relaxation, and cultivate habits of mental and ocular mobility, he can do much to diminish, or even altogether eliminate his disability.
Dominoes are very easy to see; consequently the rapid shifting of eyes and mind, encouraged by the domino drills, is almost effortless. Tension is released, and at the same time, as the eyes move from dot to dot, an enormous number of acts of sensing are performed, in this relaxed condition, through every part of the cornea. This seems to have the effect of “ironing-out” the distortions in the cornea. Exactly how, we do not know. But if, as seems likely, the disability was originally due to mental and muscular tensions, there is no cause for surprise if the disability should disappear when the sufferer has learned the art of sensing and perceiving without tension. Anyhow, the fact remains that astigmatic persons see distinctly better after the domino drills than before. As old habits of visual functioning are broken down and replaced by new and better habits, the improvement tends to become permanent.
The “ironing-out” process can often be accelerated by a procedure which may be described as a kind of concentrated or streamlined version of the domino drills. Take the lid, in which the rows of dominoes have been firmly fixed, and, holding it in both hands three or four inches before the face, move it backwards and forwards horizontally. This side-to-side movement should not be greater than six or eight inches, and should be accompanied by a corresponding movement of the head in the opposite direction.
Thus, when the lid is moved to the left, the head should be turned slightly to the right, and vice versa. No effort should be made to see the numbers on the individual dominoes, and the combined movement of lid and head should be just great enough to create the illusion that one is not looking at separate dots, but at more or less continuous lines, created by the apparent running together of the dots. After a minute or two of this horizontal swinging, the direction of movement should be changed to the vertical plane. Hold the lid with its long axis at right angles to the floor, and move it up and down, accompanying the movement of the hands with a movement of the head in an opposite direction, exactly as in the horizontal swing.
These exercises may seem rather odd, undignified and pointless. But the significant thing about them is that (in conjunction with the other procedures here described) they have helped many astigmatic people to improve their vision, first temporarily and later permanently.
CHAPTER XI, Flashing
The procedure which Dr. Bates called “flashing” is important for what it does to foster mobility, and to increase the powers of the perceiving and interpreting mind.
Flashing may be described as the antithesis of staring. Instead of fixing the object with one’s regard, instead of immobilizing eyes and mind, and straining to see all parts of it equally well at the same time, one glances quickly at it (flashes it), then closes the eyes and remembers what has been sensed in the course of this rapid dart into the unknown.
After a little practice in flashing, one makes the interesting discovery that the sensing apparatus takes in a good deal more than the perceiving mind is aware of—especially when the perceiving mind has built up bad habits of strain and effort. There is a sense in which we see without knowing it. It will be worth while, I think, to devote a few paragraphs to the discussion of this “unconscious vision”; for the subject is of considerable theoretical interest, as well as of great practical importance.
Unconscious Vision
“Unconscious vision” is a somewhat inaccurate expression, which is applied to several distinct classes of phenomena.
There is, to begin with, the “unconscious vision” we have when we make a rapid reflex movement to avoid some danger, which the eyes sense and the muscles react to, before the mind has had time to interpret the menacing sensum as a potentially dangerous external object. In such cases the nervous system works more quickly than the mind, which does not perceive and consciously see until after the danger-avoiding reaction has been initiated. During a fraction of a second, there has been unconscious vision and unconscious muscular activity.
Of a similar nature is the kind of “unconscious vision” exhibited by a man who threads his way through traffic, or walks across difficult country, while engaged in conversation or sunk in thought. He has no distinct conscious awareness of the objects around him, and yet his body behaves as though he were aware—stopping and going, turning and avoiding obstacles, just as it would do, if his mind were on the problem of walking with safety, instead of being on his talk or his thoughts. In this case, the mind is in a position at any moment to become fully aware of what is being sensed, and occasionally it actually does become aware. In the intervals, however, there is a measure of unconscious vision—of sensing with a minimum of perceiving.
Finally, there is that most normal and commonplace kind of unconscious vision, which we have, at any given moment, of all those parts of the sense-field which we do not select for the purpose of perception. The world is filled with an infinity of objects; but at any given moment our concern is only with a very few of them. From the total visual field we select those sensa which happen to interest us, and leave the rest unattended to and unperceived. Where vision is normal, it is always physiologically and psychologically possible for us to select the sensa which in fact we do not choose to attend to or perceive. This type of unconscious vision is, in the last analysis, voluntary; if we don’t consciously see, it is simply because we don’t want to see, because it doesn’t suit us to see.
There are other cases,
