I'm an engineer turned writer turned philosophy student. Join my weekly-ish treasure hunt for ideas that make life a little less sucky. No soulless blah. No advice to get up at 5 am. Just some succinct (and often unconventional) thoughts. New posts every Thursday - if my writer's block allows it.
This newsletter is a fortnightly meditation on living a more intentional, fulfilled life.
Every edition includes exclusive updates, intriguing ideas, and meaningful content recommendations.
Today: The problem with beauty and how to see without your eyes
Hey there!
People are always surprised to hear that I suffer from an extreme case of keratoconus. This basically means my eye sight is horrible. With my right eye, I can only make out a smoothie of colors. My left eye is better but still not strong enough to read anything across the room.
The problem? Glasses won't do the trick. This is because my cornea doesn't show the profile of a perfect parabola. It's much closer to a drunk cone. Laser eye surgery also doesn't work because my cornea is too thin to smooth it out at its edges.
The only cure is customized, rigid contact lenses. Which is... inconvenient. They're hyper sensitive to dust, require lots of daily care, easily slip down the drain, and only partly correct my vision impairment.
But here's the thing: I don't think I actually "suffer."
I'm beyond grateful there's a treatment. And I've embraced it as an opportunity to see more without my eyes. To pay more attention to my other senses.
In fact, here's my theory: The world becomes more beautiful when you see less because you feel more.
Let's unpack that idea in three snippets.
Western culture drools over everything that's visually pleasing.
We fetishize aesthetics: From beauty standards to pompous homes to media behemoths that are entirely built on visuals (ahem, Instagram). And so, we tend to assume that everything with good looks must, in fact, be good. (For example, studies found that physically attractive political candidates get more votes, even if they're less likable and competent.)
It's easy to see why that's a treacherous craze:
Don't get me wrong -- aesthetics are important. Good looks are important. But if we only pay attention to our eyes, we lose more than 80% of our sensory experience.
In his book How Should We Live?, Roman Krznaric debunks the myth that vision is our predominant sense. People from the Ongee tribe, for example, greet each other with, "How is your nose?" This is because scent is their most critical survival skill. It unites their universe.
Or consider this: For millennia, humans passed down their knowledge through stories. As a result, we used to be more attentive listeners.
But today, we're far less reliant on our senses for survival. So unless we're connoisseurs, elite musicians, or perfumers, we miss out on rich details of daily life. We live in a state of sensory deprivation.
And that's only the tip of the iceberg. Modern science has confirmed 21 senses (not just the five we learn from silly songs in school). For example, we're also equipped with senses of temperature change, balance, and even magnetic field detection. Plus, there's our little-credited inner intelligence -- things like imagination, creativity, memory, gut feeling, etc.
The lesson? To live a fulfilled life, we should dare to harness the power of ALL our senses. Relying too heavily on our eyes gives us an incomplete, blurry picture. As Krznaric puts it:
The only question that remains is... how?
Sharpening your senses is like building muscle. It's a skill that anyone can learn. Here are three things to consider:
Our senses are treasures of experiences, meaning, and delight. Chances are, how you experience life right now is only a drop in an ocean of sensations.
The key is to see less and feel more.
There are two pieces of art I love on this topic:
One. The Sufjan Stevens song Mystery of Love. (It also happens to be the theme song of Call Me By Your Name, one of my favorite movies). Here's the opening line:
It invites you to think beyond visuals. To "see" with your other senses.
Two. This wonderful essay by Elizabeth Dawber about her (unusual) experience with laser eye surgery. It totally made reconsider my own vision impairment.
A quote from Helen Keller, a deaf and blind academic, activist, and writer (no joke!):
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Until next time,
Stephan
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by Stephan Joppich
I'm an engineer turned writer turned philosophy student. Join my weekly-ish treasure hunt for ideas that make life a little less sucky. No soulless blah. No advice to get up at 5 am. Just some succinct (and often unconventional) thoughts. New posts every Thursday - if my writer's block allows it.
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