Stress Blinders

It never ceases to amaze me when someone is incapable of seeing something. Not in terms of medical or legal blindness, but rather intellectual blindness, whereas the cerebral machine of perception is not functioning properly. The complexity of human vision and consequent perception, is an incredible process that goes beyond mere data transmission of light's imagery conveyed along neural circuitry to the brain to be deciphered. This overstated simplicity is erroneous. Even before we see (in our brains) what we see, we have decided whether it is important for us to see it in the first place. As a matter of fact 90% of collected light data never even makes it to the brain (Richard Gregory 1970). What's equally as fascinating is that for all the impulses that go to the brain an equal amount are sent back to the eye! It's not just a receptor, its part of the processor. The eye's not solely a collector, but a processor in the hypothesis generator that defines our perceptions. Rules, conceptual knowledge, and environs play a major role in what your brain lets you see.

“Our perceptions not any objective reality govern our emotional response and resulting behavior. Perceptions are based on beliefs, assumptions, values and conditioning.” (Dr. Valeri O’Hara PHD)

Our focus in a given environment is the attended stimulus, typically familiar things and/or novel things; things that we want to see. And what about all those things we don’t want to see? Well, that’s where stress kicks in, but suffice to say 85% of the things we worry about never even happen anyway, but that doesn’t mean we're not capable of not seeing it if we think it’s a threat. As Saul McLeod stated in 2008, “Perceptual processes are not direct”, it’s a psychological exchange.

It was one of those days in the kitchen. The typical bustle of food prep was going on, accompanied by the sights, sounds, and smells of the day's menu. However, a moment arose when my senses perceived that something might be going wrong. Lingering in the air was the aroma of very hot fryer fat...real hot...too hot. Accompanied by the sound of a cook's knife cutting potato batons for the french fries the oil was heating for. Without getting into too much culinary terminology, it should suffice to say that the oil was overheated for the intended task and was now at the point of being dangerous.

In an attempt to forego the looming disaster I made my way towards the smoldering station. The chopping stopped.

“CRACKLE, CRACKLE, CRACKLE !”, too late, the cook dropped the fries into the overheated fat before I could get there. And then it stopped.

As I approached the station the cook came darting out and headed towards the back of the kitchen. I changed my direction to follow. What I heard caused me much concern.

“Shrunch, shrunch, shrunch…”, the sound of someone digging into the ice bin.

“My God, this was going to be bad.”, I thought as I envisioned the burn that oil at that temp might inflict. Again the sound stopped and the cook emerged… carrying the aforementioned ice in two secured ziplock bags. I would expect as much if someone received a burn, but the way they were carrying them did not imply they were being applied to a wound, but rather for transport.

“Are you ok?”, I questioned the cook.

“Yes Chef.”

“Then what is the ice for?”, I continued.

Silence.

I glanced at the bags and at the cook. I glanced at the bags and then at their station. I glanced again at the cook, then the bags, then the station, and back to the cook again.

“You’re not going to cool off that fryer with a ziplock bag of ice...are you?”, I could barely believe I formed those words together into a serious inquiry of one of my cooks.

Again, silence.

By now I was a little perturbed that something so seriously dangerous was even being considered, but more so by the tacit response.

“Do you know what going to happen when you drop ice into a smoking pot of fat?”, My voice a little elevated.

“That thing is going to erupt...throwing scalding hot fat straight up into your face...YOU’D BE DEAD!”

Again silence while the cook finally began the finally arrived-at contemplation.

And I must say, the response was well worth the wait...Here it comes….wait for it…

“But Chef,” they began….”That’s why it’s in the bag.”

Perception is our personal relationship between our mind's conceptualization and the attenuation of the physical world around us. It is formed by our beliefs (pessimism, optimism, feeling of control, and ability to handle stress). Perception does not solely lie in the information present in the stimulus, but rather our expectations of where we feel we are within it. So every once in awhile, you might find it worthwhile (and life preserving) to take a step back, be consciously aware of where you are and what you are doing, and gain some needed perspective.