If you grew up on an onion farm, one of several things could happen. You could be desensitized to onions- you wouldn’t tear when you cut them, you couldn’t smell them when they were about. Or you could grow an intense aversion to them, find their their appearance, taste and smell an abomination; you might cry an ocean if you dared to cut one- “Not another onion, please! I’ve seen enough, had enough!” Or you could become an onion champion- “I’ve eaten onions all my life- there is no need to know of anything else, really. If it ain’t an onion, it ain’t worth my attention. Onions or bust!” Or, you could remain neutral to the onion- “Well, it may be a new onion. I know onions, but maybe this is another type of onion, even if it is an onion. I’ve known some onions in my time, but I haven’t encountered every onion on the planet. Is it just an onion? Hmm…it’s an onion worth exploring…” And so you meet the Vidalia, Walla Wallas and spring onions for all your efforts on your travels… What do onions and empathy blind spots have in common? you might say. I guess it’s something to do with the eyes; they can make you cry a little…
© IC Blackman 2018