Drive home safely - you have precious cargo onboard.
Getting unstuck by seeing something through the eyes of someone else
You might notice this week marks a slight tweak to the format of these posts - I’ve dropped some of the structure in service of more free-flowing writing. The intention is the same it’s just a change that cracks open some freedom and I trust will make me a better writer in the long run.
Over the weekend we travelled to the country to celebrate my Pop’s 90th birthday - a simple man who has lived a beautifully simple existence. Most of my memories revolve around him tending to his gardens, particularly the wildly fruitful apricot tree that was a highlight of our visits when we were younger.
It was the first time in a long time that much of the extended family had been together - a moment that becomes increasingly precious as we all age. Toward the end of the lunch he graced us all with a short speech (he’s a man of few words) that ended with a piece of advice from his heart to ours…
“Drive home safely - you have precious cargo onboard.”
I don’t know if he was expecting to make a speech and those words were carefully considered or if it was just wisdom plucked spontaneously but it came with gravity - a reminder from someone further down the track as to what’s most important.
That and a few other moments across that weekend made me wonder what it would be like to experience moments through the eyes and perspective of someone at a different point in their life.
To my 3-year-old daughter, the world is a rapidly expanding and exciting place with new experiences around every corner. She meets most moments with a sense of newness and curiosity.
To my 90-year-old Nan & Pop, the world may still be rapidly expanding around them but the aperture of their life is closing - most of their life is now viewed in retrospect. I imagine that would have them meeting most moments with appreciation and maybe some bittersweetness.
Then there’s 31-year-old-me - existing somewhere between excitement, newness, appreciation and retrospect. I think I’m at the most exciting point in my life to date and I’m also gaining an appreciation of how fast this thing is going to go.
In some ways, I think my perspective exists somewhere between coming and going - anticipating what’s to come and reflecting on what’s been.
This season of existing between creates some headaches - it’s the push and pull many of us of a similar age feel. The tension between becoming something and being who we are, the perceived pressure of time and needing to figure our lives out and yearning to be somewhere we aren’t yet but also wanting to enjoy where we are.
It can be a challenging season. And, I think viewing life from different vantage points can help us move through the stickier moments.
I think of the days I’m experiencing some frustration or friction about where I am compared to where I want to be and what advice I might receive from those at a different stage of life.
My daughter would probably invite me to jump on the trampoline and honestly, there is no part of me that doubts that would be an immensely effective strategy.
More play.
My grandparents would probably invite me to stop and smell the roses, pick some apricots, have a coffee/tea/biscuit and just enjoy being with my loved ones. Again, no part of me doubts how effective that would be.
More time and appreciation for the little things.
It’s wonderfully (and maybe frustratingly…) simple.
A Practice
This post is really about perspective-taking.
Perspectives are just habitual ways of seeing the world - when we find ourselves stuck it’s helpful to view the world, a moment or an experience through the eyes of another.
Children or elders are particularly potent perspectives but it could just be a partner, friend or colleague.
Next time you find yourself stuck in your head or banging your head against a wall, ask:
“How might ______ see this? What advice would they offer?”.
“What is my perspective offering me? Is there another perspective that might help me move forward?”
Have a beautiful week friends.
Big love.
Jesse