In 1999, psychologists Daniel Simons and Christopher Chabris conducted a study that’s now legendary in psychology circles—and in every intro psych class I’ve ever taught.
In the experiment, participants watch a short video and are asked to count how many times a basketball is passed between players wearing white. Most people focus in, count carefully… and completely miss the fact that a person in a gorilla suit walks into the scene, beats their chest, and strolls away.
👉 Watch the experiment here on YouTube
It’s called inattentional blindness—the idea that when our attention is focused tightly on one area, we can become blind to even the most obvious things right in front of us.
And it’s not just a clever trick. It’s a mirror. It’s a reflection of life.
🧠 The Psychology of Attention
We like to believe that we’re aware, attentive, and seeing the full picture. But our minds filter reality more than we realize. We don’t just look—we look for something. And in doing so, we miss everything we’re not looking for.
In teaching, I’ve seen this play out countless times—both in myself and in students. A student might be struggling in class, and it’s easy to focus on their performance, their test scores, their attendance. But what if we’ve missed the bigger picture? A hidden strength? A life circumstance we didn’t ask about?
I’ve learned—slowly, over time—that part of being an effective educator, and person, means pulling back from that narrow lens and asking: What am I not seeing?
👓 Shifting Perspective Through Age and Experience
The older I get, the more aware I am of how often I’ve missed “the gorilla” in life.
When I was younger, I rushed through my days with goals and checklists. My perspective was narrower, focused more on doing than being. Over time, especially through seasons of transition—retirement, aging, spiritual growth—I’ve come to value the moments of pause. The unseen. The overlooked.
Aging has helped me slow down just enough to see what I didn’t before: subtle emotional cues, spiritual nudges, the quiet resilience of a student, the beauty in an ordinary day. These things were always there—I just didn’t notice them.
🙏 Spiritual Overtones: What Are You Being Asked to See?
There’s a spiritual echo in all of this. We are often invited—not loudly, but gently—to open our inner eyes.
Sometimes we’re so focused on the problem in front of us, the thing we’re trying to fix or figure out, that we miss the larger movement of grace happening just outside our view. The quiet presence of love. The nudge toward a new direction. The voice within is saying, “Slow down. Look again.”
Maybe this is part of what it means to live a more open-hearted life—not just reacting to what we see, but being willing to look again. To stay curious. To ask, again and again, What am I missing?
The Invisible Gorilla of Retirement: From Doing to Being
I found myself reflecting on this subject yesterday, not focused on it, but when I couldn’t sleep last night, it occurred to me that this was on my mind. My purpose? We spent the day with our “roommate” and his new family, along with our nephew and his little brother. Five kids and four adults.
Clearly, the women directed the day! And it got me wondering about my role. Did I have a purpose? What was I not seeing?
Since I stepped back from teaching over twelve years ago, I find myself with more time to reflect, create, and just… be. But that shift hasn’t come easily. I’ve spent most of my life in motion—preparing lessons, grading papers, meeting with students, adapting, giving, doing. Purpose was defined by productivity.
But now, in the quieter hours, I notice something strange—an inner tension.
It’s as if part of me still whispers: Shouldn’t you be doing something useful?
Shouldn’t I be helping out more?
And that’s when I realize—I’ve missed a gorilla.
🔄 Reframing the Everyday
The Invisible Gorilla reminds me that perception is a choice—and so is the willingness to shift it.
* So here’s a small invitation for the week:
* Pay attention to what you’re not paying attention to.
* Be curious about the parts of your life that feel too familiar to notice.
* Ask a question you haven’t asked in a while.
Listen for the quiet thing beneath the noise.
Literally, stop, look, and listen.
Because sometimes, the most important thing in the room is the one we didn’t even know we were supposed to see.
Great post Dave. It gave me a lot to think about. Please keep on writing.
Will do! Thanks for the feedback.