We see what we want to see

The more creative you are, the more often you perceive ordinary objects in places which is not special.

Frequently, people perceive random patterns in the world as familiar objects. Nearly everyone has undoubtedly discovered a cloud whose appearance resembles one animal or another. I have even come across children who have looked up at the sky and declared, "There's a rabbit in the sky." The term "pareidoria" is used to describe this phenomenon.
     According to a recent study (Pepin et al., 2022), creative people are more likely to identify recognizable objects in ambiguous stimuli. Participants were asked to identify as many recognizable things as possible within a random pattern containing varied fractal dimensions. The findings indicated that creative people, who scored high in a divergent thinking task, experience pareidolic perceptions more frequently and more quickly compared to those who are less creative. Additionally, highly creative people report pareidolia across a wider range of pattern complexities.
     This got me to thinking, because everyone is creative to some extent. Throughout history, Asian culture has found meaning within random patterns.

Looking to the sky: the Tanabata legend

The example which first crossed my mind was the "Tanabata" legend. The stars Vega and Altair are visible in the sky during the summer. The legend was born in ancient China, exported to Japan, and passed down from generation to generation. The Milky Way appears to divide the two stars in the sky. Long ago, people created a scene in which Altair was a man, Vega was a woman, and the Milky Way was a river. From this, a mythology was created.
     Orihime (represented by Vega) was the daughter of Tiandi, the most powerful god in the sky. Her job was to weave clothes for gods. Hikoboshi (represented by Altair) had the job of taking care of the cows. Every day, Orihime put in a lot of effort into her work. Her father introduced her to Hikoboshi so she would have some enjoyment in her life. Eventually, they got married.
After getting married, Orihime and Hikoboshi stopped working hard and just focused on enjoying their new life together. Orihime’s failure to weave additional clothing caused the gods' clothing to get torn. Hikoboshi stopped taking care their cows, and a cow got sick.
     Orihime’s father split them apart on either side of the Milky Way as a punishment for their lazy lifestyle. They never stopped missing one another. Because her father regretted going too far, he made a promise that if they worked hard again, they would be permitted to meet once a year on July 7th.
Since Vega (Orihime) and Altair (Hikoboshi) are separated by 14.4 light years, they will never cross, even if they move at the speed of light. If science had elucidated this fact at the time the Orihime legend was created, this fable would never have existed.

Cultural variations in what we see

     Orihime's legend is not generally known outside of Japan and China. Instead, many people know Altair and Vega as a piece of the summer triangle which consists of Deneb, Altair and Vega. In western culture, people viewed these stars as a triangle, whereas in ancient China, people focused on Vega and Altair, creating a legend revolving around them. We see what we want to see, and it might vary from culture to culture.

Reference
Pepin, A. B., Harel, Y., O’Byrne, J., Mageau, G., Dietrich, A., & Jerbi, K. (2022). Processing visual ambiguity in fractal patterns: Pareidolia as a sign of creativity. Iscience, 25, 105103.

Inspired by
Miyagi, F. (2017). How many nights.