Why is it you never notice how loud a clock ticks until you are focused on the sound?
After reading a few chapters of a book I’ve been working on, I decided to take a lap through the blog world to see if inspiration would strike for a post tonight. As I scrolled through different pieces that other writers have written, I noticed that I wasn’t actively interested in anything I was scrolling past. Instead, my mind was completely blank. All of a sudden the clock on my bedroom wall seemed to be incredibly loud. Like, how can I realistically be expected to concentrate on anything else, loud.
It’s like when you take those Facebook tests where they have you read a list of things, then somewhere on the list they point out that you missed a number. You go back and check and sure enough, somehow your brain decided that keeping register of the numbered items was not as important as the message the post was trying to deliver so it omitted it from relevancy.
It’s funny the way the brain auto sorts through the factors of our surroundings and prioritizes what we need to register and what can be reduced or removed from consciousness without us ever really noticing.
How many times does this happen in our everyday life though? Is this why, until something major happens, we never notice the signs that it is on the horizon? It’s always after a tragedy that the neighbors recall the troubled boy who seemed to be acting suspiciously.
What signs might we be missing that we don’t even recognize as signs?
Some thing as innocuous as a clock tick ticking isn’t major but how many major things do we block out without even noticing?
How much does the brain unconsciously drown out every day?