We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are~Anaïs Nin
We are constantly shifting. What feels true today may differ by tomorrow. Even if I return to the same conclusion, I arrive with new eyes. Perspective isn’t fixed; it’s a tide. It moves when we question, when we listen, when we pause long enough to notice what’s been quietly waiting.
I grew up between two worlds. My father was Caucasian. My mother was a Japanese American, both an entrepreneur and a dreamer. A carved wooden Buddha sat in our home, not as doctrine, but as presence. We didn’t name ourselves Christian or Buddhist. My mother believed my brother and I should choose our own way. That early mix of cultures suggested there’s never just one “right” way to see, truth can be found in many voices.
Perspective is a lens, not a law. Think of the number six—or is it nine? It depends on where you’re standing.
Over time, I’ve learned that sometimes the wisest thing I can do is say nothing, when my perspective may not align with the circumstances. Silence becomes a bridge: reflection, a contemplation. Compassion grows in the quiet. There are moments when life tightens, holds strong. When fear takes the forefront and old patterns grip too tightly. That’s when I know it’s time to pause.
And then there are days when peace tiptoes in unnoticed, until the lack of tension is felt. When this serenity catches me off guard, I feel an expansion where limits once resided. That’s flow. This is often where inspiration arises. It has its own rhythm. It doesn’t arrive on demand. Pauses aren’t empty, they’re sacred.
Perspective moves like breath, inward, outward. Contraction offers rest. Expansion brings flight. We need both.
I once found a poem I’d written years ago. When I read it aloud, it took on a different meaning. The words hadn’t changed. I had. That’s what perspective does: it invites us to revisit, to reimagine, to release the need for perfection.
Sometimes I wonder if perspective is less about what we see and more about how willing we are to see differently. It asks us to loosen our hold, to let go of certainty, to meet the moment as it is, not as we wish it to be. That’s not always comfortable. However, I’ve found that discomfort is often the doorway to growth.
There’s a calm kind of courage in choosing to stay open. In allowing our beliefs to soften. In listening without needing to fix. The world doesn’t need more noise; it needs more noticing. And in this noticing, we expand our ability to see.
I’ve learned to trust the spiral. To honor the loop. To welcome the return. What once felt like backtracking now feels like deepening. I’m not circling the same place; I’m arriving with more presence.
Perspective isn’t just a shift in thought; it’s a shift in perception. It’s a shift in being. Life doesn’t move in straight lines; it circles around. We return. We see again, differently. Each shift holds wisdom. Each ebb and flow, a subtle unfolding.
This is the shape of seeing.
It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.
~ Henry David Thoreau
