Category Archives: Perspective

Seeing Beyond Your Daily Life

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I have a deep and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life. - Virginia Woolf

I snapped this photo in a side street of Venice about 14 years ago. I almost couldn’t believe I’d witnessed this little moment! But Venice was like that. Travel is like that. We leave our ordinary worlds and see what we might walk right past in our daily lives.

I believe this is what Virginia Woolf meant about desiring something beyond the daily life. Whether it’s making art from your experiences in your “everyday” life, or traveling to a distant land, it’s about seeing in a different way. It’s about looking closer.

When I look at the picture, I wonder who left the bike there? Was it a woman, as the style of bike suggests? Or was it a boy who borrowed his sister’s bike to get home from school?

If it was a woman, what did she carry in its wire basket, if anything? Her handbag? Fresh fish, or flowers from the Rialto Market? An old book with a broken spine that her grandmother loaned her? And what would the contents—or the emptiness—of the basket reveal about her story?

Your curiosity about little moments like this are doorways into your art. Whether you use a camera lens, a paintbrush, a fountain pen, or your voice to express what you saw in that moment, you create a window into your world. Other people get to peek through that window, into a moment that is both personal and universal.

What did you notice today? What piqued your curiosity? What images, sounds, or words do you want to share with us? We want to know.

Navigating the Dark Places

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One afternoon, you’re “walking along,” having an average day. Whether you’re content or not, you’re at least somewhat comfortable, because you’re following a routine. The structure of predictability feels safe.

Woman's feet hiking on a trail

Then, something profound happens.

Someone you love dies. You lose your job, or begin a new one. You get divorced, or you marry. You have a child. Or you develop a health issue.

Regardless of whether what happens is positive or negative, you experience an inner shift.

You become conscious of something new—or see something old in a new way—and it doesn’t fit neatly into your view of the world.

Or your role in the world changes, and you no longer quite fit in the life you’ve been living.

The old routines don’t keep you steady anymore. The signposts on your map disappear, and you stumble off the path. Then, a hand reaches up through the earth and pulls you into the underworld.

You wander around in the dark, overwhelmed and feeling lost. You fear you will never find your way home.

Mythical Phoenix bird of fire

This is exactly where you need to be.

This is where magic lives. A part of your consciousness is going through a real death and rebirth. You’re preparing to rise like the Phoenix, and this is sacred work.

Metaphors—like the myth of the Phoenix—are a kind of magic. They communicate through story, a process so deep that it can be difficult to describe and express directly.

The underworld, like the soil, is a dark, rich place of decay, death, and growth. It needs water (tears) and light (consciousness) to bring forth something new: an insight, a new perspective, a piece of art.

Soil cross-section with plant roots

Creativity is an essential part of life. It’s a core way we learn to navigate the dark places, and grow as a result. Sometimes, writing a poem is the only way to make sense of an experience. Combining images in a collage can create an aesthetic whole, out of fragmented pieces of life.

This is how we express the depth of being human. And we need this from one another.

When we bring our experiences and insights back to the community, we are like creative shamans, bringing healing to others through art.

If you have something to say—and you do—we need to hear it. We are your community. Experiencing your journey gives us hope. It helps us see we are all on our own journeys, and we are not alone.

How to Slow Down and Move Forward

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With the light fading away earlier in the evenings, leaves beginning to change color, and the cooler nights, summer is ending and autumn is just beginning.

Before summer ends, it’s easy to feel a sense of urgency to complete the things you wanted to do, but didn’t.

In fact, that’s exactly how I felt earlier today. My inner critics were starting to stir things up and I was well on my way to letting them make me miserable.

But then I looked at this photograph. Its stillness, its peaceful beauty, had a message for me.

Reflection of trees on lake

This is the time to reflect. To slow down and appreciate all I’ve accomplished.

Looking back over a busy summer, my memories waver in and out of focus, like images reflecting off a lake:

  • Writing weekly blog posts, even when I didn’t think I had anything to say.
  • Playing with my sweet, ornery dog.
  • Coaching some gifted, creative people.
  • Creating a travel watercolor set for myself.
  • Sorting through my house, and giving away, throwing out, or selling quite a bit of stuff.
  • Starting a regular yoga practice.
  • Completing a rigorous business course.
  • Having breakfasts with my amazing husband on our back porch.
  • Facilitating an inspiring 30-day creativity challenge.
  • Meeting with wonderful friends.
  • Hosting a transformative vision board workshop.
  • Making trips out-of-state to see my dear family.
  • Organizing my office and creative space.
  • Painting a dozen watercolors.

It’s a lot, actually!

Focusing on what you’ve accomplished silences your inner critics by putting things into perspective.

I still have my to-do list, but I’ve decided to try something different. Like most creative people, doing things the linear, “type A” way drains my energy and blocks my intuitive wisdom. When I operate too much out of my left brain, my stomach tightens, my back and neck stiffen, and—worst of all—it’s harder to see the magic in this world.

Sometimes I have to make things into a game to stay interested and motivated. So I took my to-do list and tore it into strips of paper, with one item written on each piece.

Goals written on strips of paper

Then, I put the papers in a pretty red crocheted bowl, and stirred them with my fingers.

Strips of paper in bowl

That felt good!

Now, instead of running around in my head, taunting me, my to-do items are written on paper.

They’re “under control” in one spot, but not in a list.

What I didn’t accomplish (yet) is fresh in my mind. Now it’s time to take a deep breath, wait, and see what rises into my awareness. That’s what I’ll do next.

By taking the “should” out of my linear list, and making it more of a game, tomorrow doesn’t feel like an endless list of tasks, it feels like a morning of discovery. What will I do? I’m excited to find out!

Being in a balanced perspective helps you think of new ways to solve a problem, or re-energize routines.

If you’re feeling stressed by all you have to do, take the time to appreciate what you’ve already accomplished, instead of rushing ahead to the next task. Then try making a game out of what you need to do, or changing your usual routine, to freshen up the experience.

Remember, you are in control of your own experience. Make it meaningful to you!

Start Where You’re At

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My yoga teacher said something lovely at the end of our practice. She was talking about forgiveness, and how you can choose to forgive someone as well as you can, from where you are now.

My heart softened when I thought of not trying to force the ideal, but instead, allowing myself to do something to the best of my ability. It’s like stretching: if you try to force your muscles, they tighten. But if you slowly relax into the stretch, your muscles gently release a little at a time, increasing your reach.

It’s also like that with art, with writing—with any creative expression.

When I was younger, my standards for my writing and painting were so high, I thought I could never reach the ideal in my mind. And I thought that meant I was failing. How discouraging.

And how wrong.

It’s not about being as good as someone else, or being better. It’s about being genuine. It’s about growing into yourself as an artist, kind of like a puppy “growing into” her paws.

Puppy with big paws

The ideal is meant to inspire, not discourage. When I paint, I have an idea in my head of how I want it to turn out. But often, something that I didn’t intend changes the end result—kind of like life!

When I judge the final result based on that “mistake,” I think it’s not good enough. But when I look at the whole, I often like it anyway; sometimes I love it!

It’s not perfect; it’s just the best I can do. (And next time, I know what to do differently.)

You have something you aspire to.

If you don’t start, you won’t get there.

So start now, right where you’re at.

Woman's hands on laptop keyboard

The Power of Perspective

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In my college art class, we had an interesting exercise that involved perspective. We copied a work of art, both right side up and upside down. I chose to copy “Girl with Beret” by Jean Baptiste Camille Corot:

Girl with Beret original drawing

“Girl with Beret” by Jean Baptiste Camille Corot

I had fun with the exercise, sketching as close a copy of the original image as I could.

Copy of Girl in Beret sketch

Left is my copy of the original right side up.
Right is my copy of the original upside down.

The drawing on the left is a closer copy. I like to think of it as the mask worn for the outer world: polite, compliant, and polished, while the drawing on the right is the interior: a little less perfectly put together, more delicate and vulnerable. The expression in her eyes, with the slight upward curl of one side of her mouth, seems to express both boredom and a secret. Same subject, different perspectives.

Perspective is powerful. When we don’t have all the information, our minds fill in the blanks as best they can, based on our vantage point. That’s why two people can witness the same thing and give not just different, but even conflicting, accounts.

It’s like the metaphor of three blind men describing an elephant based on touch. Each was right about the part he touched, but wrong when he tried to describe the elephant as a whole, based on his limited perception.

We do that when we take a negative perspective and blanket our experiences with it.

Our perspectives are never really complete, and yet we base our beliefs and behavior on them. We absorb a lot of negative beliefs through the years, and when we base our actions on them, they skew the outcome.

What is your dream? What do you want to do the most in the world? Are you doing it? If not, why?

I’m not dismissing the real barriers and roadblocks that hinder you. I’m asking you to take a closer look at your beliefs about them.

If your dream is to write, but your perspective is “I’m not talented enough to write,” what is the result?

What if you tried on a different perspective? How about “I write because I have something to say”? How does that feel?

You are choosing your perspective right now—either consciously or unconsciously. And you can consciously choose a different perspective.

This is a powerful truth. It opens windows and unlocks doors.

Think of a perspective that really isn’t helping you. Write it down. Then beside it, write a few other perspectives you could choose. Then sit quietly and take the time let yourself feel what each perspective is like.

Which one resonates with you the most? (It may not be the one you expected.) Try it on. Wear it around the rest of the day.

How does it change your view of what’s possible for you?

Remember, you always have a choice.