Blind Spots Revisited
In recent conversations with friends, founders, and professionals, I noticed a common preoccupation: blind spots. These exchanges brought me back to a question I began asking in college: What am I overlooking?
RILKE’S ROOM: BEYOND THE FAMILIAR CORNER
I trace my interest in blind spots to Rainer Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet, which I read in my freshman year. The Prussian poet noted, “If we think of an individual’s existence as a larger or smaller room, it appears evident that most people come to know only a corner of their room, a place by the window, a strip of floor on which they walk up and down.” He also advised the young poet, “to always be a beginner.”
I took his insight to heart. I started observing myself. I noticed that I had taken the shortest route from my dorm to the library so often that I had begun to overlook my surroundings. When a building was demolished, I realized I could not recall what had occupied that space.
My familiar route had also kept me from seeing other parts of the campus and the city. I began taking different paths and discovered ancient trees and tranquil streets. I saw houses with gabled roofs, symmetrical facades, and decorative moldings from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries—architecture I find beautiful.
As I tried to steer clear of the sophomore slump, I asked: What am I not seeing? What are my blind spots?
WHAT WE CANNOT SEE
We all possess a physiological blind spot. Each eye has a blind spot at the optic disc, where the optic nerve exits the retina and light-detecting photoreceptors are absent. We can demonstrate its location with a simple visual test, even though we seldom notice the gap in ordinary vision.
I encountered another kind of blind spot when I learned to drive in high school. My instructor taught me to look over my shoulder before changing lanes because I could not see a vehicle beside my car through the mirrors alone.
Our blind spots extend beyond the physical. We are creatures of habit. We cultivate routines, accumulate experience, and rely on knowledge to navigate life. Those same resources can narrow our “visual” field. We begin to accept familiar ways of thinking and working as unquestioned reference points.
Psychologist Tasha Eurich describes a form of knowledge blindness: “Our assessments of our abilities in particular situations are shaped more by our overall self-beliefs and inherent skills than by our actual performance.”
First-time entrepreneurs, for example, often place great confidence in a novel product idea while overrating their founder competency. They overlook founder attributes needed to build and lead a company: how to face uncertainty, how to thrive during scarcity, and how to respond to adversity.
Serial founders may rely on previous winning strategies without identifying new conditions or skills they need to develop in a new venture.
People with deep expertise may also experience knowledge blindness. I’ve worked with professionals and organizations that became so immersed in their disciplines, practices, and industry standards that they lost what I call “fresh eyes.” Some failed to notice outdated practices or recognize an alternative approach that could resolve a current challenge.
In a recent conversation with my friend Xeno Müller, an Olympic gold medalist and rowing coach, we discussed the blind spots we may miss after years of working in our respective fields. We often apply our expertise to solve problems, but our reliance on it can also narrow our perspective. Someone outside our professional silos can offer a fresh pair of eyes and help us see what we have overlooked.
BLIND SPOTS: BEYOND THE STANDARD DEFINITION AND MEANING
In my coaching practice, I have often approached blind spots through problem-solving. When clients faced recurring challenges, we examined what they might have missed. Over time, I began questioning my own tendency to associate blind spots with problems that needed fixing.
The word “blind” can evoke absence, deficiency, or something missing. When we talk about self-awareness, blind spots often become associated with beliefs and behaviors that call for correction. Discovering one may evoke anxiety or discomfort. Yet that interpretation reveals only part of the picture.
What we cannot see or have yet to notice may include an assumption, a habit, or a source of inspiration.
A blind spot has no agency, no intention, and no inherent value judgment.
We may encounter something that challenges us, enriches our lives, or brings a welcome surprise. Once we recognize something we had missed, we can decide how to respond and what place it may have in our lives.
AS WE CHANGE, SO DOES OUR PERSPECTIVE
As complex human beings, we change every day: emotionally, mentally, and physically. We change even when we repeat the same daily habits.
We change as we encounter new ideas and people. We change when we step into new environments. Inside each of us is a world unto its own.
Each experience changes where we stand, what we can see, and what we miss. We see portions of our inner world from the vantage points available to us.
As we learn and grow, we may see a familiar narrative or habit in a new light. We may also become aware of blind spots that escaped our attention before.
BEYOND THE FAMILIAR CORNER
Rilke’s familiar corner of the room has stayed with me since college.
To approach life with the eyes of a beginner takes practice.
We rely on our experience for good reason. Yet we can question what we have come to accept.
Reflection, a conversation, or a new path may bring a blind spot into view. What we find may be a solution, a strength, or a new possibility.
We can approach our blind spots with curiosity and an open mind, free from preconceived judgments about what we may find.
What might you discover beyond the familiar corner of your room?
•••••••••
© My-Tien Vo – October 29, 2026
