Perspective is (almost) everything

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 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.