As hard as I tried, I never saw beyond the squiggles of an austereogram and for a while was convinced — like a die-hard conspiracy theorist — that no one saw anything and that they were liars all a part of the charade. Also, that they were likely v high.
I don’t possess whatever capacity is required to suspend my eyes into not focus. My natural instinct is to see something and lock on it rather than looking past it.
Which is a metaphorical way of saying: my perspective can be really fkd.
I have always been an optimist. Some would argue: to a fault. And by “some,” I mean all of my pessimist friends whom I lovingly call a.sholes behind their backs. JUST KIDDING, YOU GUYS!! CALL ME!!
Exasperatingly, I obsessively believe that perspective is the primary key to our happiness, and that 90% of the pain we experience is self-mutilation brought on by our own chosen perspective. When we are facing trying work, relationship, friendship, or school situations, but not when we are having bombs dropped on our heads. Obviously, I am not fool enough to rumble on about how Iraqis ought to see the bright side: they no longer need wrecking balls.
When we have a sh.t situation settle itself into our life, we have to decide whether it will crush us for months and maybe years, or whether we’ll only allow the pain, confusion, and anger to settle in for a few weeks before we then pick up our sh.t, walk to the other side of the situation in order to bury it with a quick “thanks much for getting that sorted and out of my life for me.”
Listen. Before any of you start yelling at me, let me state the obvious: I live a v cushy and lush life. I am blessed and exist without real trauma or pain (even though I confuse v easy), but this isn’t reason enough to discount my perspective (see what I did there?) because pain and hurt are relative.
That said, by no stretch does my belief mean that I don’t stumble and fall, often skipping along on my tummy like a stone across a pond. Because I do; a lot. Also, I understand how v v difficult it is to haul our a.ses up and shift perspective.
More often than not, I am in a state of internal jihad (definition: struggle, the most important of which within Islam is internal struggle to self-awareness and improvement, you stupid fkn terrorists, and sensationalist news persons who have hijacked this term) trying to find the better, gentler, kinder and more optimistic angle to any given situation within which I am swallowed.
When I can’t find it on my own, I have a very select few friends who I trust with my life and who punch me in my perspective to straighten me out.
Perhaps the key is to begin by accepting the inarguable reality that we are presented with an infinite possibility of platforms from which to see any given situation. Then to — with time — slowly edge ourselves away from the Heart of Darkness of our minds, to the area with comfortable cushions and a secure place to rest safely. Rinse and repeat.
While always coupling it with the humility to support others as they baby-step from one platform to another if we are inclined to sprinting.
It’s so hard to do though!! It’s like a muscle that you have to always use to make sure it works. It’s so hard 🙁
Hugs,
Maria
xoxoxoxo
Janey — I hear that best friend in the whole wide world of yours is pretty fkn spectacular. 🙂
xxxxoooo
Why?
Because I am shite at it. Because I have never been an optimist (I like to think it’s realism and not pessimism, but some days I won’t argue the point). Because I don’t want to step out of my comfort zone and embrace another perspective. Never have liked change. I’ve always struggled with, well, struggling, though my life has been blessed. I am well-fed and clothed and sheltered with a good job. But I’m one of those people that don’t want to change perspectives. Doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally look through other perspectives, just means mine is all comfy and homey. The moments when I struggle most are when I know I need to increase my view, as I am currently. I know in my bones that my basic views probably won’t ever change, but that no matter how much I detest it, the finer points will certainly change and I will certainly struggle to accept that.
Guess meditation has helped me with the “not focusing” – for me, when I learned to become a watcher of my thoughts (sometimes), it helped. Most days I’m not so zen, but knowing how to center yourself in the middle of the emotional shitstorm is an important tool – whether that’s prayer or the embrace of a loved one or excercise or whatever.
Simon’s right – your strength and your perspective do inspire the rest of us. After all, when a friend you respect and look up to can say that they are trying and share their struggles, it helps you to see that maybe you should be trying too.
Thank you for your honesty.
There are days when I can’t tell the difference between my left hand and my ass. On those days, ‘perspective’ is an extremely difficult thing to manage and to shift, and on those days, I let shit run its course, keep my head down, deal with the struggle and focus on my quiet (setting aside a few minutes a day to calm my shit really helps — that’s prayer).
Also, changing perspective is not a static thing. I often find that I change perspective for 8 out of 10 days and then for 2 days I find myself back in the same stupid place wondering wtf?
Anyone who says it’s easy is full of shit.
Anyone who says that it’s permanent is also full of shit.
But you should be in a constant state of work to get there. I think so, anyway.
As to your comfort zone. I think that’s often a human thing. We are animals of habit which is both amazing (we can get used to the most brutal circumstances — war) and shitty (we stay in abusive situations because they become habit). Take it easy on yourself and move at your own pace (so long as you don’t need to get out of an abusive sitch, in which case you should be flo-jo-ing it out of your place of comfort) 🙂
xxo