Every moment has infinite potential. Every new moment contains for you possibilities that you can’t possibly imagine. Every day is a blank page that you could fill with the most beautiful drawings.
~
Ok. I’ll cop to a bait-and-switch this week. Normally I have a target topic as soon as I finish a post, but my brain was fried this week. Its capacity was stretched to the point that I tried to check in for a flight six days early. Yes, I should have waited another six days. No, I don’t think I need to see a specialist.
But I say all that to reflect my state of mind, which may be one you’ve had, also. So scattered from so many things going on all at the same time. No focus. Just static in my head. No idea what I might write about this week. So you get the first thing I thought of, which is, “What changes our perspective?” And yes, I wrote a post on perspective a few weeks ago, but that was more of a long view, not flash-in-the-pan change. I’ll be indulging in a bit of stream-of-consciousness thinking, trying to understand a habit humans exhibit. Feel free to join my ruminations or go get another cup of coffee. Whatever gives you joy.
Internet response on changing perspectives
If you’ve read my posts before, you know I try to include external links to support my hypothesis or, in most cases, something new that I’ve learned. When I queried change of perspective, I found suggestions for ways to change perspective – not what alters our perspective without asking for it. The first site that came up is Betterup, which suggests 15 ways to make a change in your–or my–outlook.
The next round of searches provided reasons for different perspectives, and those articles leaned more toward how we bend typically and culturally long-term. But we aren’t always the same, are we? No matter how we’re raised or what our culture is. And we aren’t always looking for a different perspective, are we? Sometimes one just falls on our heads.
When your mind is blank, something starts writing on it
When I began attempting to think of a topic for 8-1, the television was on and what I saw was a commercial for St. Jude Hospital. I won’t go into details about the patient mentioned, but you already know what it feels like to see a suffering child. Of course I felt compassion. Who wouldn’t? But exposure to someone else’s pain also reminds me of how extraordinarily fine my life is. How lucky I am that my children never faced a catastrophic illness. And how some of my pitifully infinitesimal problems can occasionally spoil otherwise perfect days.
Perhaps you have experienced the same thing. You’re driving to a family gathering, minding your own business; all’s right with the world. Your spouse is in the passenger seat, fully engaged in a novel, and you’re jammin’ to music on the radio. And THEN, the driver behind you pulls out over a solid line to pass you. He has to floor it to get over before oncoming traffic forces a no-win decision, so he cuts you off. You hit the brake violently and your wife is jerked away from her fictional interlude. Nobody died and your car is fine, but your perspective changes. You will either be overwhelmed with gratitude for travel mercies or overcome with anger. Which will it be?
Sometimes the blanks are filled with joy
In another, less dramatic, situation I might be lifted out of a nondescript mindset by a phone call from a friend whose voice I haven’t heard for months. What’s changed? Not much. I wouldn’t be any brighter than I was before the phone call. No richer, no younger. Why the lift in spirits? Obviously it’s a morale-booster if someone calls me to touch base instead of texting, but practically speaking, my life is the same. And yet. Hearing from someone I care about provides the endorphins that some people say they get from exercise. 😉
My point, and I do have one, is that I find it odd that I have to be reminded of how much I have. I legitimately don’t understand why small things are capable of making me tilt emotionally when I am intellectually aware of my relatively good health and a better life than I have any right to expect.
Perhaps I just don’t know how to research that question properly. Perhaps you have a handle on that. If so, please text me. No, wait. Give me a call.
The best way I have found to gain a different perspective is to get out of my comfort zone. We middle class Americans are accustomed to having (in general) what we want when we want it. Not so in many parts of the world. I know for a fact that I have too much stuff.
I’m right there with you. The first exposure to poverty I had (as an adult) was with a church group in St Louis proper. Even then, while I was living on credit cards, pretty much, my life was 1000 times better than the people we were attempting to help.
You do know we are traveling today 😉
Enjoyed your article!
Fortunately, I don’t have prescient powers, so you’ll probably be fine. It was just a scenario, completely unrelated to anyone in a car today. 🤦♀️ 🤞🏻
What I know and often struggle to practice is the art of listening. When I talk snakes, and you know I love to do so, it is important for me to keep an open, non-judgemental ear. If we don’t feel listened to or acknowledged, we won’t likely be willing to hear. Stories are an important part of communication.
I can spew 100 facts( and I often vomit out too much info), and it is white noise. If I tell my story, people can connect. I must be willing to listen to people’s stories. I have a lot of practice ahead.
I think you have a lot of company in that pursuit, Walt. But I can’t remember a time when I thought you weren’t listening. 🤷♀️
According to Milton, “the mind is its own place and in itself can make a heaven of hell or a hell of heaven”. I think the issue is do you choose your reaction or do you react to an issue from your programing.
Precisely.
So true, Gail. Tonight, my husband and I went for an ice-cream run. We love the drive through the meandering hillside near our home. Somehow, those winding roads bring a rhythmical pace to our drive that relaxes and offers time for reflection–“blank” time. Tonight, we found ourselves behind a semi whose driver must have had a gps that gave him a short-cut to I75. Well, he carefully navigated the two-lane, meandering road as we sat back and watched him at work. We laughed at what the driver must have been thinking about that gps. Our simple drive to the ice cream shop entertained us and caused us to reflect on the work that our nation’s truckers do and how much we love the Tennessee roads–always something to surprise and to capture our attention. What we thought was going to be one of our “blanks” turned out to be a fulfilling moment. Thanks for the inspiration.
Excellent example of what could have been a frustration that turned into a springboard for appreciation. Thank you!