I have been musing this morning on how flexible perspective can be, depending on the circumstances in which you find yourself.
For example, three days ago, if you had informed me that I would need to spend $125 on repairing my washing machine, I would have been appalled. I don't have an extra $125 laying around with nowhere to go, and I certainly didn't need to throw it away on washing machine repairs with a graduation party coming up, and college to pay for.
Technically, I will have two "children" in college next year. I can't really claim the oldest one is either a child, or my responsibility, since he has managed to find a way to both continue going to college at age 24, and get paid for it, but still, the fact remains. Two of them. In college. At once. Be amazed. I know I am.
Where was I again? Oh yes. Perspective. One moment, $125 sounds like a huge sum of money. The next moment, it sounds like small change, especially when we are talking about repairs of any kind, and numbers with lots of zeros begin to loom.
A couple of days ago, I walked into my laundry room to find water spreading rapidly across the floor. The obvious source was my washing machine, the center of a quickly expanding pool threatening to engulf everything within several feet of the offending equipment. I grabbed some towels from the laundry basket sitting there at my feet, and threw them on the floor to soak up as much water as I could, while I tried to figure out what had happened.
Because it didn't make any sense to me that my washing machine should suddenly, out of nowhere, start to leak, I assumed it was an overflow, or something random that happened. My perspective was narrow and limited, and didn't yet allow for the possibility that something more drastic had occurred.
I threw in another load to see what would happen, and shortly thereafter, once again saw my floor, and my perspective, being increasingly consumed by water. I threw down more towels, emptied the washer of the water that remained, and called for help.
I did not want to make that call, knowing that it was probably going to cost me a lot of money. Car repairs never seem to cost less than $1000, and smaller electronics never seem to be less than $300. I think it's a rule or something - that's the minimum charge. So I was resigned to my fate, and accepted that the price of clean clothes was going to be another $300 out of my already empty pocket.
Thus, I was pleasantly surprised this morning to learn that the cost was "only" going to be $125 to replace a drain hose that had a small hole worn into it. How quickly things changed, as $125 went from a huge sum to good news. My mind shifted in split second timing, as I immediately absorbed the savings of $175. (This is the type of creative accounting that allows Congress to see a rise in spending as a cut - they haven't spent as much as they were originally going to, so thus, we now have a savings. Simple perspective.)
Perspective is, by definition, a view, a vista or a mental outlook. Human beings have a fascinating ability to come to grips with almost any situation, aided and abetted by an ever changing sense of perspective. We can be whipsawed by the change, it can occur so rapidly, as we acquire additional information or gather supporting facts.
When we take a photograph, we generally do it straight on, standing in front of the subject, putting them in the center of the frame. The more artistic among us, however, have a different perspective, and will tilt the camera, or fuzz the background, use different colors, or shoot from an unusual angle. The perspective of the shooter will change the perception of the viewer, and you will see what they saw.
In life you cannot control the perspective so neatly and easily. I think that is why blind dates so seldom work out. Whatever the introducer sees in each of their friends is rarely what they see in each other. Their perspective, as the introducees, is different than that of the one who knows each of them more fully, and that first impression is difficult to overcome.
Children take their perspective from their parents, and as they grow older, add their own experiences to the mix, until, as adults, they form their own opinions, independent of their parents. Whether its people or food or experiences, they have their own perspective, and it's often surprising to find out what they think or feel.
I have never liked meringue. There is something about the taste and texture of it that does not appeal to me, and I don't enjoy foods where that is a big part of the product. Thus, I was shocked a few years back to learn that my son, my very own child, liked lemon meringue pie. I had a difficult time wrapping my mind around the idea that not only did he have his own opinion, it was, in fact, the complete opposite of mine, and in direct conflict with my strong feelings.
Needless to say, this is not the last time we have come into deeply held conflict, as he has only solidified his opinionated nature as he has grown into adulthood and lived increasingly on his own. But it was, for me, the wake up call that adulthood was looming, and that soon his perspective would not be what I told him it was, but rather, his own.
I have often been told that my son is like me, and so the points of conflict are, by definition, somewhat limited in scope. We generally have the same outlook on life, and frequently are facing the same direction, even if the angle is slightly different.
The same cannot be said for my daughter, who has her own perspective on everything, and is rarely in sync with me on any given subject. She has her own way of dressing, her own way of thinking, her own way of looking at the world, and it is rarely how I would do it.
She wears boots in the summer and flip flops in the winter. She will wear shorts and a winter coat. She is a puzzle to me most of the time, as she and I rarely see things from the same perspective. She has enlarged my world, as I have learned to examine things from different angles, and allowed myself to expand the assumptions that color my understanding.
When I was little, my mother always dressed me in blue. She loves the color blue, and she looks good in it, so that is what she usually chose for my clothes as well. I never wore green or black, because, spoken or not, her perspective was that I didn't look good in those colors.
As I got older, I continued to choose the colors I had always worn, because my perspective was taken from my experience. However, one time, I fell in love with a green silk dress and tried it on. I was surprised to see that it looked good on me; the color flattered my eyes and my skin tone. My perspective changed, and suddenly, I tried a variety of colors I would never have dared to wear previously.
My closet is now full of salmon and green and black, and hardly a blue piece to be found. I see myself differently, and it has opened up a new world to me that was off limits previously.
When my daughter was little, I dressed her in pink and red, because those were the colors I thought were most flattering for her. Now that she is an adult herself, she chooses her own colors, and uses the entire palette to support and enhance her vision of herself. Her perspective is entirely different than mine, and the person she presents to the world is one in vivid color.
Perspective is always influenced by one's original impressions. Although the old cliche tells us not to judge a book by its cover, as humans, we rarely flip through the pages without having a preconceived notion established by glancing at the dust jacket. First impressions are very difficult to overcome, although it can happen with time and effort.
Career counselors say you can lose a job in the first three seconds of an interview. I would believe that, because the moment you walk through the door, the interviewer is already forming an impression. That perspective will affect everything from the questions they ask, to assumptions they will make, all of which play a role in whether or not you get the job.
Perspective is everything, and I feel that the next few years will bring a new perspective to my life, as I become an empty nester, and learn to live life in a new and different way. I vividly recall 25 years ago, when I was pregnant with my first child, feeling overwhelmed by the impending responsibilities, and almost paralyzed at the thought of being in charge of someone's life for the next 18 years. My cousin, Susan, gave me some wonderful advice, which I have thought about many times since, and which I pass along here to you. She told me that parenthood happens one day at time, and that is all you really have to worry about. You grow into the job, and by the time you get to the future, you will be ready.
In other words, you need to keep things in perspective, and everything will work out. Words to live by.
