Changing the Lens ~ Expanding Perspectives

"Now just close your eyes and draw with your mind. You might be surprised at what you will find…

Like yaks in tuxedos
And hippos on boats
And otters who ride in parades full of floats.
Or lions who juggle
And squirrels on stilts
And lizards who know how to sew handmade quilts.
Or ferrets who garden
And turtles who dine.
But tell me what you see it’s your dream-not mine! "

Laura Numeroff “Chimps Don’t Wear Glasses”

I believe I was about eight when I asked my Mom about her glasses. I was wondering how old she was when her Mother discovered she needed them. She recalled being about my age at the time. I inquired as to whether or not they were still the same glasses. I remember her answer clearly: “Well yes, of course they are Leona.”

Because I was only eight, I missed the characteristic tone of quick-witted mischief that was, and remains, her true essence. She was even outrageous enough to assure me that “as her face grew, so did her glasses.”

Imagine my disappointment when I shared this information with my friend Berni. She had just begun wearing glasses, so I was eager to help her understand just the way these glasses would work. Her very practical Mother overheard our conversation and was swift to correct me. I’m positive she thought I was an elaborate taleteller as I defended my claims with, “Well, my Mom has worn the same glasses since she was eight.”

I recall her incredulous reply: “Ree-ally?”

“Uh huh,” I nodded hard, “Her glasses grew with her face.”

I don’t think I need to say any more. Except that this story still makes my Mom laugh.

I think my friend Berni wears contacts now.

While I realize that my Mom's glasses did not actually grow with her, I do know that her perspectives did. Each time she needed to change her glasses—literally and figuratively—she needed to first become aware that her perception was no longer as clear as she needed it to be. In order to best honor her vision, she had to acknowledge when she needed a different lens.

If my Mom hadn’t cared about how she moved through her world, maybe she would have kept the old glasses. If she had, it’s likely that she would have spent a lot of time bumping into things.

Reflecting back on this whimsical memory, I choose to see this experience as a yardstick of courage and creativity. My Mother’s spontaneity and my willingness to engage in this playful exchange were, and still are, testimony to free spirits and imagination.

The important word here is “choose.” I could choose to look through a less resourceful lens and remember myself as gullible and naive.

We all see and interpret our world and our experiences through our own “perceptual filters.” And we choose what those filters allow us to see.

My son tells me about a teacher that he has this year. When he speaks of him, Daniel's already generous eyes get even larger. My son shares that when this teacher enters the classroom he claps loudly and shouts, "I love Math." Then he throws his hands in the air and says, "I am so glad we are all here today—together—for math!"

This is a boy who has always detested math. This year his marks in Math are the best they have ever been. Amazing how quickly transformation can happen when the perceptual filter is one of fun, passion and adventure.

Somewhere along the way, I bought into the dogma that states “Everything should be difficult and take a long time in order to be a life lesson.” And that it can’t be joyful if it has anything at all to do with personal evolution. While I am unsure who sold me this bill of goods, I do admit to being a willing buyer.

Well not any more! If my lens is one called "choice," then my experience becomes a genuine reflection of who I am. Whether or not you call your lens "choice" is up to you. The point is to choose a filter that will enable you to reach the most meaningful place in your life.

As my filter remains as one of choice, I notice my days unfold with a speed and purpose that is mind-boggling. There is spontaneity and laughter from the gut. I am alert, as well, to the presence of “self” during my interaction with others. Mix that in with animation and what manifests is higher profit margins in my craft and treasured experiences with the people I am involved with.

Whether at work or play (and they are becoming one and the same), as a past business owner or as hairstylist, writer, Industry coach, or as a Mom, sister, daughter or friend, I value being present—really present—in every moment. Think about the times when you've "shown up," but weren’t really there? Until I "show up” in my own life, how can I be present in anybody else's?" Resourcefulness and creativity can't show up to play without the player.

As I begin to mindfully change my lens, I am now alert to the color, texture and sound of my life. The unstable movement of the cracked pavement in my driveway, the shading in the "I love Mom" kitchen art, the pounding of drums in the basement, the gold flecks in my son's blue eyes, and the color and texture of my daughter's skin after she has eaten spaghetti. The color of my world may be gray or blue or bright yellow. The texture could be soft or theatrical. I might hear giggling under the blankets or tears in the tub.

But whatever shows up is perceived through my view of the world. As I become one with responsibility and purpose, I’m able to choose the most innovative and effective lenses.

Kind of like choosing to wear sunglasses. Not wearing them and staring directly up at the sun is dangerous to my vision. So why would I intentionally do that? If I put the sunglasses on and I don't like the shade/size/feel of the lens, then I can get another pair. My choice, my lens, my view.

Changing perceptual filters! A lot like how I had imagined my Mom’s magical glasses. Evolving with her growth.

Ok…so why don't you try it?

JUST close your eyes and draw with YOUR mind. You WILL be surprised at what you will find.

Yaks in tuxedos?? Might be kinda fun!

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