I’ve lived in Leicester all my life. I’ve wandered round all
the well-known bits. I’ve even written a Children’s History of Leicester. [I
needed to do plenty of research for that!] But yesterday was the first time that
I’d been a real tourist at home. I went on a guided tour of Leicester’s Castle.
There’s not much of it remaining. We couldn’t climb worn stone stairs or wander wind-blown
ramparts but we were able to look at odd bits of stone rising up here and there,
The Turret Gateway, John of Guant’s Cellar, the mound of grass that was once
the Motte and, with an expert in the lead [Richard Buckley from Leicester University’s
Archaeological Services], we learnt so much more than lumps of stone could ever
impart.
Why have I never been on a local guided tour before? When we go abroad we always sign up to guided tours so why not in our home town? That was a rhetorical question. I know the answer. It’s because we think we know what’s there. We get so used to seeing it that we stop seeing it. Why does our brain do that? [That wasn’t a rhetorical question so do please let me know if you have the answer.]
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| This is a page from my Children's History of Leicester. The photo on the yellow background shows remains of the castle wall where gun holes were punched in it to defend Leicester (unsuccessfully) from Prince Rupert's army in the Civil War. |
Why have I never been on a local guided tour before? When we go abroad we always sign up to guided tours so why not in our home town? That was a rhetorical question. I know the answer. It’s because we think we know what’s there. We get so used to seeing it that we stop seeing it. Why does our brain do that? [That wasn’t a rhetorical question so do please let me know if you have the answer.]
The same thing happens in other areas of our lives. I’m very
lucky to have a lovely house and a beautiful garden but days go by and I forget
to notice them… until a friend visits and I see it all through their eyes and
remember. Yes, I am lucky.
I wonder if this happens with writing. Do we become so
immersed in the character detail of our work-in-progress that we forget where
we were intending to take the story? Or maybe we get too hung up on plot twists
to work on our characters.
It certainly happens with relationships. It’s not until we
run the risk of losing someone that we look through our seeing eyes, the ones
that view things for real.
I know that I need to use my seeing eyes more often and I suspect I’m not
the only one.
