Many highly sensitive people are sensitive to their perception of the spectrum, specifically red and blue light.
Sensitivity to red and blue light causes the visual image not to always fall centrally on the fovea centralis at the back of our eye. Movement of the visual image from falling on the centre of the fovea (promoting sharp visual acuity) and switching on red and green cones, to image falling on outer edge of the fovea (promoting less sharp visual acuity) switching on blue cones, and all the incremental changes of these combinations, cause disturbance in our visual system.
Disturbance in our visual system cause small muscle imbalances.
Small muscle imbalances cause sensitivity to misalignment of our gaze (Phorias)
Misalignment of our gaze causes issues with focus, tracking and depth perception.
On a deeper level, misalignment of gaze causes Lack of Coherence (difficulty seeing the big picture or processing the whole.) A person’s world may appear to be unintegrated or flat.
Lack of Coherence causes confusion. It is as if the brain is trying to do a giant jigsaw puzzle but can’t quite make the pieces fit together.
Confusion overloads the nervous system and the result is sensory processing issues (visual, sound, touch and texture, proprioception, balance and interoception.)
Issues with focus also cause too low or too high saturation of colour, augmenting the sensory issues of taste and smell.
What Do We Do About This?
We need to: –
Test people to see if they could be sensitive to their phorias.
Offer people the right prisms to correct their phorias.
Teach people about spectral sensitivity because this is essential in understanding our phorias and working with them successfully.
I often see too much blue and not enough red. When red tones are missing, nothing feels complete.
When I went back to school as a child the trees were losing their leaves and they didn’t feel compete.
The pumpkin of October didn’t feel complete and even less so with holes in.
The flames dancing around on the fire in November hurt my eyes and didn’t feel complete.
The presents and tree of Christmas didn’t feel complete. The colours and patterns of my clothes didn’t feel complete.
The colours, shapes and patterns of the food on my plate didn’t feel complete.
People’s voices, music, the sound of a bath tap didn’t feel complete.
A hug or a kind word didn’t feel complete.
Nothing felt complete until New Year when there was a bit more blue and red light and my hope of completion started to rise. By Easter things were feeling better and by my Birthday in May I could process the patterns on my new Birthday cardigan.
And then in June, that old feeling of incompleteness started back again. On a sunny day when all looked so beautiful, the garden felt incomplete, the beach, the hills, the woods – they all felt incomplete. And vegetables and meat started to become very slightly blue and colours appeared in general a bit drained, like someone was forgetting to add red to the world. I felt unsafe from September to December but now it was a different feeling of being unsafe – the light felt brash and harsh and I could feel exposed and lost. So my ‘normal’ is to feel ‘incompleteness.’
As an adult I understand it. It is all about my perception. The world doesn’t change like I think it does. My perception does.
My experience has taught me to trust and taught me to have faith. These are the two things that are constant in my life. These things are unchanging.
When we perceive moreblue light thanred light, we see the world in higher definition.
When we perceive more red light than blue light, we see the world in lower definition.
When we see in high definition we can feel separate and lonely. We can find it hard to gather and maintain our energy. We can find it hard to drink in from the world and feel part of the world.
When we see in low definition, we can feel that everything is a bit too blended. Life doesn’t draw us in and we can’t quite get hold of things. We can feel tired, apathetic, depressed, as if we have no clear use or purpose.
Look at the photograph at the top. Do you want to walk into the picture and pick up the marble or do you feel you can’t reach it or do you feel oblivious?
If you feel you can’t reach it, you may not perceive enough blue light today.
If you feel oblivious, you may not perceive enough red light today.
If you want to pick it up, then you are just fine the way you are!
Experiencing ambient colour sensitivity, I am highly aware of my brain’s interpretation of what I perceive in the world around me. I detect the slight rise in red light in autumn, the lowering of blue light in the winter, the change between predominance of red and blue light in the spring, and the lack of red light in the summer. I feel the harmony of colour combinations all around me as soothing, or less soothing. I detect the slightest change in luminance, changing all the colours I see and the way they interact with each other, constantly, throughout the day and seasons. I have an extreme experience of contrast. experiencing a dance between colours becoming subtly darker and lighter, altering the way I see and feel line, shape and pattern all around me.
It isn’t right to be outspoken and it isn’t right to keep quiet
It isn’t right to be with people and it isn’t right to be alone
It isn’t even right to be right and it certainly isn’t right to be wrong!!
There is a lot of blue light today giving me gritty determination to push forward my own ideas. However there is less red light so I feel less secure in myself and my ideas. The two feelings clash and confuse and confound me.
February and the light is getting that little bit brighter. In fact it feels suddenly a lot brighter . . . because in my perception the violet light has woken up. Violet light is strong for me in the beginning and middle of winter too but there is nothing like the violet light of February. It feels ‘harsh.’
The reason the February light feels harsh to me is that seeing more violet light when the light is still generally not at its brightest means I see less red light to soften the blue. As the light gets brighter the red light appears in my perception again around March and April only to disappear again as we head into the brightest month of June.
How Does This Affect Me?
Colours look at their best
At this point between the darker light of winter and brighter light of midsummer. Even though the red is low for me, I can still see enough red to perceive colours very well except for perhaps acid yellow and pale grey.
My other sensitivities are at their highest.
I am particularly sensitive to sound and white noise drives me crazy – the filling of our water tank after a bath, the fan of my computer, our kettle, the rattling of plastic bags. All these sounds make me feel jangled.
I have a lot of energy!
My brain feels like it is going at 100 mph and there is nothing I can do to slow it down!
What Do I Do?
I celebrate the beauty of the colours
I examine the things that causing me disturbance in the house. For instance we changed the water pressure to make the sound of the header tank filling up more bearable. And I am trying to find a new kettle!
I try to focus on one thing at a time.
I try to filter out any clutter whether that is thoughts or physical clutter in my environment.
I ask other people to be as calm and slow as they can with me and to not give me too much information at once.
I eat food that feels comforting and has a softness to me.
I wear clothes that have a soft colour to me.
Most of all I enjoy my crazy flitty intuition that can lead on me exciting little journeys!
There is something about doing a jigsaw puzzle with snow that really gets me going! I love working with the different shades of white. I can’t do the puzzle on a cloudy day – when I can’t pick up all the light frequencies – only a day when there is enough blue and violet light around to make the whites ‘sing’.