The Price of Perspective

Perspective rarely comes in the moment. What happens when we stop trying to be right—and start seeking wisdom?

Perspective rarely comes in the moment.

About as rarely as trees frame a picture-perfect view of what lies beyond.

We all know the day that first feels like fall. When the temperature outside requires a hoodie or sweater, the sky is a sea of unblemished blue, and the air is so fresh and crisp your lungs almost hurt from breathing it in so deeply. Fallen leaves skitter across surfaces, crows caw in the distance, and trees sparkle in a kaleidoscope of radiant yellows, burnt oranges, ruby reds, and maple browns.

Every year, on that day, I find myself at my favorite park, meandering through three miles of trails through forests and beside lakes. No earbuds, podcasts, or social media playing in the background. Just me and the beauty all around.

The quiet gives my inner self the space to flow. To be without an agenda. To let thoughts drift in and out, like a tide being pulled by lunar gravity. Some thoughts are quick, relating to the mundane—a warm-up before the substantive ones arise. The mundane gives way to the next tier, those thoughts that linger—requiring concentration but not undivided attention. And so it is that the lingering thoughts also wash away, providing the space for the matters that we seldom devote enough time to. The ones that get to the crux of who we are and who we aspire to be. The world we want to live in and how our purpose intertwines within it. How we deal with our personal triumphs and tragedies, the ones the world sees and the ones we obscure.

Fall is the therapist that sits without judgment as we work through what has come to pass, where we find ourselves now, and where our future lies. None of these questions are easy or have a simple antidote. Seasons bleed one into the other, sometimes circling back before forging ahead. Brutality and beauty sit on the same continuum. Would it be any less for humanity?

Perspective is a muscle. We are the only ones who decide if it will atrophy or be fortified.

Plenty of us are guilty of thinking we gain perspective in a conversation, when we have only learned to parrot talking points. We are only capable of real perspective if we have taken the time to delve into ourselves. To learn how to listen, to be a seeker of knowledge, to unlearn what has proven false, and to value the truths of others—however foreign. To know that we do not have all the answers. Yet each of us has a treasure trove of gifts, talents, and yes, even shortcomings, that propel us to effect change.

Strengthening a muscle is not comfortable; it requires new regimens, intermittent pain, and diligence. Strengthening perspective is no different.

Perspective tells us the true end goal. We must search for wisdom instead of being right. Wisdom rises when ego falls.

As autumn can attest, what beauty awaits us then.