Why a Little Dirt on the Glasses May Be Good for Marriage
Why was man created with two eyes? One answer is that a person needs one eye to see himself, and another to see his spouse. But in marriage, seeing too clearly is not always a virtue. Sometimes a slightly blurred view is exactly what keeps a home standing.

Why was man created with two eyes? One answer is that a person needs one eye to see himself, and another to see his spouse. But in marriage, seeing too clearly is not always a virtue. Sometimes a slightly blurred view is exactly what keeps a home standing.
Agnon tells in The Bridal Canopy of a conversation between two people. One asks why man was created with two eyes, when a person can see with only one. After all, there are people with one eye who see perfectly well, and nothing in creation is without purpose.
His friend answers that one eye is meant to see the greatness of God, while the other is meant to see one’s own lowliness.
That idea echoes the Chassidic teaching that a person should always carry two notes in his pockets. One says, “I am dust and ashes,” as Avraham Avinu said. The other says, “The world was created for me.”
But perhaps a married person needs two eyes for another reason. A single person’s sight is not the same as a married person’s sight. Before marriage, a person naturally sees mostly himself. Sometimes, out of mercy to his parents and friends, he also notices them. But once he stands under the chuppah, the system receives a serious upgrade. One eye can no longer be enough for the “I.” Another eye must be trained on the “we.”
The first family drama in history also began with sight. After Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge, the Torah says: “The eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked.”
Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Peshischa asked why the verse says “the eyes of both of them” rather than simply “their eyes.” He answered that after the sin, they saw that they were two separate beings. Beforehand, they shared one purpose. Afterward, each saw his own interests, opinions and ego.
That is also what knowledge can do. It can create distance. It can sharpen every difference until every small flaw looks like a crisis.
This may be the hidden punishment in the opening of their eyes. It is not always good to see everything. Not every stain on the wall requires renovation. Not every careless sentence needs a commission of inquiry. Not every irritating habit deserves an indictment.
There is wisdom in partial sight. Sometimes it is good to see the world a little softly. A young couple does not need only love. They also need a measure of nearsightedness, the kind that does not hide reality but blurs the nonsense.
Psychologists may call this a generous view. Judaism has a simpler name for it: a good eye. It means choosing to see the virtues first and the flaws afterward.
As Shlomo Hamelech says in Mishlei: “One with a good eye will be blessed.” A good gaze toward another person has a way of bringing a good gaze back.