It should be said that direct attempts to improve foveal vision by consciously shifting can sometimes prove difficult at first. You may find it better to postpone practice of conscious shifting for a while and concentrate instead on the techniques in this chapter, which are both a practical expression of foveal vision and a means of encouraging it. When your foveal vision has been improved by these indirect means, they can be used in conjunction with direct shifting and swinging to improve it yet further.
The following techniques all involve the idea of getting the eyes and mind to work together, either by searching the visual field or by following objects in motion. They are offered mainly by way of suggestion. You can doubtless think of many more yourself.
The first are based on the sort of pastimes that, before the advent of television, used to keep children (and not a few adults) amused on wet afternoons.
Dominoes are an ideal object on which to practise foveal vision. There is good contrast between the black background and the white or coloured dots, and, in order to identify each stone, the eye must make a series of rapid shifts. The game of dominoes in all its variants provides an entertaining source of practice, if you enjoy playing; but, even if you don’t, the dominoes themselves may be put to good use as an aid to vision.
Take a set of dominoes and arrange them in random rows and columns, such as those shown in Figure 11. Either wedge the stones into a shallow box lid or glue them (double sided adhesive tape is handy for this) to a piece of stout, and preferably red, cardboard.
Figure 11
Place the dominoes just inside your “blur zone” — that is, just out of focus. Palm for half a minute, and then look along each row of half-stones, starting at the top left-hand corner, moving from left to right, dropping one row, coming back from right to left, dropping to the next row, and so on. Thus the sequence in the example of Figure 11 would be 4-6-1-5-6-2-6-5-0-3-5-1-0-3-2-1-4-2-5-etc. Speak each number to yourself and rapidly move on to the next. Do not worry if you make a mistake. What matters is the attempt to count the dots and the rapid movement on to the next group. Close the eyes for a moment or two at the end of each row. Repeat, but this time name the numbers in the columns rather than the rows. Vary the practice further by finding each number in sequence, or by finding each domino in ascending or descending order of value, or by subtracting the value of one half-stone from its neighbour and finding the product elsewhere — any sort of arithmetical operation can be pressed into service to make the drill more interesting.
At subsequent sessions, move the dominoes slightly deeper into your blur zone, but remember never to strain or to try too hard to count the dots. If you don’t have any real dominoes to hand, Figure 11 itself may be used instead.
The use of dominoes like this has been found specially helpful in cases of astigmatism, for which the following drill may also be of use.
Bring the dominoes to within 7–10 centimetres (3–4 inches) of your face and move them fairly quickly from side to side, back and forth in front of your eyes, 10 or 20 times, moving the dominoes so that new rows of dots are being presented at each pass. As the dominoes move to the left, turn your head a little to the right, and vice versa. Next, turn the board or box lid the other way round and pass the dominoes before your eyes from top to bottom rather than from side to side, again between 10 and 20 times, and again presenting fresh rows of dots at each pass. It will be seen that this technique has something in common with long swinging; and, as in long swinging, no attempt should be made to focus on or hold any part of the image. Be content to see the dots as a continuous blurred stream against the black background of the stones.
Like dominoes, dice are easy to see and require the eyes to make a number of shifts while the brain is counting. They are equally useful for encouraging mobility and, as they are so small, may easily be carried about in the purse or pocket for use in odd moments.
Throw your dice by hand rather than with a canister. As they come to rest, take a very rapid glance at the upper faces and immediately close your eyes. Visualise the dice and the way they have fallen, and name the value of each one. Briefly look back at them to compare your visualisation with the real thing. Here again, accuracy is less important than the act of getting your eyes and mind to move. Repeat several times.
Start with just two dice, and slowly work up to four or even five. Small dice are better than large ones. Once you are able to visualise all the upper faces, try visualising some of the other faces too, first on the left hand side of one die, then on both sides, and then on more than one die. When you throw the dice, try not to spread them too widely.
Any game which makes use of dice, from snakes and ladders to backgammon, gives excellent practice in shifting. So too do such games as chess, chequers, snooker, and, best of all, Scrabble, in which one must continuously search the board or table for new combinations. Certain fast-moving computer games, especially when viewed on a monitor rather than a domestic television set, are also good, as are the pocket-sized electronic games which have a liquid crystal display and use beeps to engage the hearing as well as the eyesight.
Playing-cards also provide an opportunity for entertainment combined with exercise in shifting. For their value in this, though, the various games must be reassessed according to their speed, so that snap and cheat come out at the top of the list, and bridge and poker at the bottom. One of the best games for our purposes is patience, particularly the variety in which the cards are laid out in seven columns. Acquire if you can a pack of miniature cards and use these in preference to the ordinary ones, especially if you already see fairly well at reading distance.
Ball games of any kind are good for mobility, whether played or watched. The smaller the ball and the faster it moves and changes direction the better. Indeed, the projectile need not be a ball — it can be a shuttlecock, a frisbee, or even a boomerang: the effect is the same. Two-ball juggling is a valuable exercise. Toss one ball with your left hand and catch it with your right, and, while it is in the air, throw the other ball from your right hand to your left. Keep the balls moving inside an imaginary box, and make sure your eyes follow the left-hand ball throughout its trajectory. Juggling like this outdoors, gradually turning so that you approach the brightest part of the sky, is effective too in helping to overcome photophobia.
The table of random numbers (see Appendix B) contains each of the numbers from 1 to 99, printed at least once. By searching the table for combinations or sequences of numbers, the attention is encouraged to shift very rapidly indeed.
With the table at your normal reading distance (or as close as you can bring it if you are hypermetropic or presbyopic), search for the numbers from 1 to 50. That will probably be enough for your first session. On subsequent days, search for some other sequence: 50 to 99, perhaps, or 99 to 30, or whatever you choose. As you become familiar with the table you will remember where certain numbers are to be found; to minimise this effect, at alternate sessions search by column or by row, and gradually increase the length of the search sequence so that eventually you go from 1 to 99 and back again to 1. The search may be varied in other ways. Pick a pair of numbers at random — say 93 and 04. Take the first digit from the first and the second from the second to form a new number, in this case 94, which you then proceed to find in the table. Having found 94, pair it with an adjacent number in the same way and find the next. Other sorts of combinations, involving addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, people’s birthdays or telephone numbers, etc., can of course be sought as well.
Fix the number board (Chart D), at a distance where the largest grid of numbers is easily legible, the middle-sized one less so, and the smallest is legible only with difficulty. Make yourself comfortable, palm for a minute or so, and, on opening your eyes, glance at the largest 1. Holding the memory of the figure, close your eyes and, breathing freely and normally, turn your head to the right until your chin is roughly in line with your shoulder. Open your eyes, let the 1 go and, not too quickly, turn back. Glance now at the largest 2; close the eyes and turn to the left. Continue swinging slowly and rhythmically in this way until you become tired or have covered all the numbers up to 20. As you approach each number, let your gaze travel in the blank spaces under the line of numbers rather than across the numbers themselves, so that when you come to the appointed figure you make a slight upwards shift.
In the next stage, repeat the process, except that, when you glance at each of the numbers on the largest grid, glance immediately to the left and find its medium-sized counterpart. When you close your eyes, hold the memory of the medium-sized figure, giving to it, however, the clarity of your perception of the largest figure.
Repeat the drill once more, but this time find, with a rapid, unconcerned glance, the smallest figure as well. You will know its position on the grid, but it is not important whether you are conscious of perceiving the figure in any detail. Merely close your eyes and hold in your mind the image of what you did see, while lending to it the clearer memory of the largest figure.
The act of recognising a single letter requires the eye to perform at least one shift and probably more. While reading, it is the shapes of words which tend to be recognised rather than their component letters, but nonetheless a large number of shifts — perhaps several dozen — must be performed in order to read a sentence. Reading a whole chapter will demand many thousands of shifts, and for this reason reading is excellent for encouraging mobility.
The matter read should first of all be of interest, and the print should if possible be small rather than large, because then the range of each shift will also be small. The abnormally large print, supposed to be easier to read, used in children’s books actually does the children no favour at all. Because the letters are so large, the child’s eye must perform abnormally large shifts in order to take in the shapes of letters and words, thus postponing or even interfering with the acquisition of the correct visual habits necessary for reading print of ordinary size.
For our purposes, the smaller the print the better, provided there is adequate space between each line. Small print with generous spaces between the lines is always more legible than large print with narrow spaces.
Let the eye run just below the line of letters, for this discourages the tendency to “catch hold” of any part of the sentence. At first it may feel strange, but if you persevere you should find that reading becomes much easier.
For those who have trouble focusing at reading distance, it often helps actually to isolate the sentences from each other, so that you can be sure of reading them one at a time. Take a sheet of stiff paper about 15 centimetres (6 inches) square (black paper is best as it improves contrast), and, using a razor-sharp blade and a straight edge, cut a slot across the middle just over 10 centimetres (4 inches) wide and 5 millimetres (3/16 inch) high. This size is about right for most novels and similarly printed books; for material in other formats, papers with appropriately sized slots should be prepared, or, with a little ingenuity, an adjustable slot can be made. Failing that, simply place a 12-centimetre (5-inch) strip of paper or thin card under each line of type and move it down the page as you read.
Isolating the lines like this prevents neighbouring lines from jostling for your attention. In some cases it is worth going one stage further: make the slot of the same height but no more than about 2.5 centimetres (1 inch) wide, enabling only one or two words to be seen at a time. Move the slot along the line as you read.
All reading and close work generally should be done under strong illumination. Not only will a strong light improve the contrast between the print and the blank paper, but it will also encourage foveal vision and stop down the iris to increase the depth of focus. Using a slot and under a bright lamp, you may find it possible to read print which formerly was beyond you.
Take frequent breaks during your reading to make use of the other techniques of the method. Palming, visualisation, and sunning are especially helpful in preventing or alleviating the eyestrain and headaches that often accompany or follow reading.
This little technique is one of the most effective there is for normalising and coordinating the various functions of the extrinsic muscles. It may be practised virtually anywhere and at any time. All that is needed is an object in view with a definite and easily perceived edge — a picture rail, a door frame, a book on the table, telephone wires, the rise of a hillside.
Follow the edge, whatever it is, with your eyes. In the case of a picture frame, you might start at the top left-hand corner and edge each side in turn, moving clockwise, and then retrace your path, ending where you started. Or you might edge the picture frame several times in one direction, and then several times in the other. Give preference to objects in your blur zone, but do not neglect to edge other objects too.
The effects of edging are enhanced if, at the same time, you look down the “tunnel” described in the section on ruler fusion (p. 55).
Perhaps the best — because the most natural — way to get your foveal vision working properly is to cultivate the habit of being observant. Many people seem to pass through life in a sort of haze, never actually seeing anything they look at. The converse of this state, perpetual alertness, is very difficult, if not impossible, to achieve; but at least it gives us a goal to work towards.
Trained observers do their seeing in response to a continuous flow of unconscious questions. If the observer is a policeman, say, the questions will be of the type likely to be put to him at some future date in court; if he is a scientist, they might be those that critical colleagues would ask in order to verify whatever it is he is trying to prove. In any event, the questions asked are of just a few fundamental sorts: “How many? What size, shape, colour? What special features — what similarities and differences?”
Teach yourself to ask these questions, consciously at first, about whatever is in view. To start with you might, whenever you think of it, apply the question “How many?” to the view. “How many people at the bus stop? How many windows in that house? How many panes in each window?” If the numbers are large, your counting need not be more than approximate — all that really matters is that you are getting your eyes and mind to move and work together.
Later, when you have become proficient at each type of observation in turn, combine one type with another, and then with two others, and with others yet, until you can combine them all simultaneously and it becomes second nature to see observantly. If you are looking at a vase of flowers, for instance, you will no longer be satisfied to look at it without seeing. You will want to know at least one fact about it and probably more. How many flowers? What species? What colours? Is there anything unusual about them? What of the vase itself? Is it glazed or not, plain or decorated? Have you ever seen one like it before?
This all sounds like rather hard work, but in fact an analytical observation of our vase of flowers would take no more than a couple of moments and would be performed quite automatically. This, after all, is the way our eyes were meant to be used. For primitive man, survival itself depended on a keen and constant appreciation of detail and change. The slightest clue — a pawprint, a broken twig — might be the only warning he had of hidden danger. Civilisation has removed the need for such vigilance, but it has also blunted our senses and deprived us of the pleasure of being properly aware of our surroundings.
As with a number of practices in the Bates method, the effects of analytical observation may be heightened with the use of mental imagery. Using the technique just described, and, to begin with, at the distance at which you see it best, study an object or group of objects, shut your eyes, and examine closely the image that remains. When you feel you have recalled as much as you can, open your eyes and compare the real with the recollected image. Close them again and repeat several times.
Each time you repeat the process you will take in more information, steadily improving your knowledge of whatever you are looking at. The final images (real as well as recalled) should be considerably more vivid and detailed than the first.
The benefits of this practice will accrue as a livelier, more interested approach to observation and seeing generally, and as a gradual improvement in and development of the visual memory. This in turn will benefit the ability to perceive rapidly and well.