Taking Time to See
Eleanor has learned how to swipe left on my phone to access the camera. For the past several months I periodically have had to go through my camera roll and delete the many blurry and black photos. The photos that had the thumb partly over the camera. The photos of random household corners, or the photos showing just how dirty my carpets are. And the many photo bursts where she left her finger on the shutter for 5 seconds, resulting in 30+ photos. Lately her aim and focus have improved. Some I have even kept. This evening, as I looked through her photo creations, it hit me that I had the opportunity to see things how she sees things.
There was a picture she took of me as we wandered outside. From her angle I look like a towering giant, my head in the sky against a backdrop of towering trees. Another was a close up of the couch cushion. She managed to capture the texture in the fabric weave that I don’t often take the time to observe. One of my favourites is a candid photo she captured of Bob and Ellie, her snuggled in beside him on a comfy chair talking about some story: the every day stuff.
It is incredible that this little person is learning everyday to navigate her environment that is filled with obstacles and giants, both physical and abstract. (Now I know why she is constantly eating and sleeps so well at night).
Today, my two-year old taught me a refresher course in perspective. Perspective. How one sees something. The lens through which someone looks. A looking, perceiving, followed by an acting. Because we perceive something, and then act accordingly. It is data, information that our brain uses to shape our response. I came away with three lessons.
First, it is important for me to take the time to learn how the other person is seeing things: to meet others at their level with the intention to understand. This is critical if I want to have compassion and empathy.
My greatest tool in the tool belt of motherhood is slowing down, getting down on my girls level, and seeing things from their perspective. Whether its just to play, or to resolve a conflict, or to carry out discipline; there is a trust that is built and love communicated when I take the time to share in their perspective. It may not change the end goal that I am trying to achieve, but it sure does change how we get there (and often with a whole lot less resistance).
For too long in my marriage with Bob I relied on my perspective and mine alone: jumping to conclusions, making assumptions, and formulating eloquent judgements long before he opened his mouth. This only ever led to misunderstanding and hurt. Add an unhealthy dose of “I’m never in the wrong” and, well, it never ended well. The biggest lesson I’ve had to learn in marriage is humility. When I stay curious and give space for my husband to share his perspective, it is reciprocated and we feel connected and supported and on the same team.
And while I practice shifting my perspective most with those in my immediate family, it is equally as important to do so in friendships, with neighbours, and with the humans I encounter every day out in the world. And that includes the world of the internet. It would be far easier and less time consuming to scroll through social media with a running inner dialogue of “why would she wear that? Can’t they see how weak their argument is? Oh he is totally overreacting. It can’t be that bad...” To slow down and ask myself “I wonder how their day is going. Wow. I can see how far this person has grown! That must feel really heavy. I can’t imagine...” takes energy and commitment.
Allowing myself to see others perspectives is a step towards following Jesus’s teachings. Jesus‘s greatest commandments were to love God with everything you’ve got, and to love your neighbour as yourself. Whether enemy or foe, we are called to love. And what do we know? Love is patient. Love is kind. Love doesn’t envy (or judge). Love is not self-seeking. Love is not irritable. Love bears all things. Love takes the time to see.
Second, it was a reminder of how my perspective compares to God’s. He sees the whole picture. The zoomed WAY out and the zeroed close in. As Eleanor wandered down our clue-de-sac taking pictures of the asphalt and the shadows and my shoes, my eyes and ears were alert to potential vehicles and big sister on her bike. I was also brushing her hair out of her eyes and helping her adjust the phone so as to not have her little finger over the lens. Just as I keep my eye on my 2 year old to make sure she is navigating the obstacles around her, so God has His eye on me. I can trust that. I can rest in that. And suddenly a weight is lifted off my shoulders. Because I don’t have to rely on my perspective anymore, but on His. His is an eternal one, and I find it in the pages of scripture every time I open my Bible. And oh the hope and joy and peace it brings!
Finally, I realized that my own perspective can shift and change even multiple times during the day. Hungry and sleep deprived? Things can look a little fuzzy. Feeling like every day is the same thing over and over again: the Groundhog Day of motherhood? Things can feel a little like a finger on a shutter button for too long. Trying to get everything from the whole week’s list done in one day? Like the close up of my couch cushion with all the texture and weave of the comings and goings. And if my own perspective is constantly shifting and I know I can trust God’s perspective for my life, this means I don’t have to have the answers. Just as I can give space for others, so too I can give space to myself, extending compassion when it would be easier to be critical. I can give myself grace to grow and change.
May I slow down this week and take the time to see.
Talking of perspective, here’s a fun photo of above-mentioned 2 year old getting into daddy’s drawer in the bathroom while I get ready in the morning. I wonder what is going through her brain as she sorts through the treasures found there.