Sides

The wide world is all about you: you can fence yourselves in, but you cannot for ever fence it out. ~ JRR TolkienStart wide, expand further, and never look back. ~Arnold Schwarzenegger

Let's not be narrow, nasty, and negative. ~ TS Eliot

There is in true beauty, as in courage, something which narrow souls cannot dare to admire. ~ William Congreve

Certainty narrows, curiosity widens. ~ Bob McInnis

We live in a world of unparalleled possibilities. Yet, more often than not, we rely on the tried and true heuristics that worked yesterday and in all our yesterdays. Fear, laziness, complacency, or ignorance convince us that there is 'nothing new in this world that is worth exploring, worth trying, worth learning.'

In my not-so-humble opinion, there is everything new in this world, and I can soak it up, synthesize it, reflect on it and then reflect the as yet unimagined creation to those willing to see it.

My youngest grandson loves binoculars. However, at six, he prefers to look through them backward from how I use them. He likes things far away' better than close up. I have tried them both ways at his insistence and realize that I see more clearly, having seen the tree and seen the leaves. Simply by adding one perspective widened my view of and appreciation for the world. If I had continued to bring things close, I wouldn't have seen the forest.

As I read Robert Sapolsky, YH Harari, Column McCann, and Ali Bryan, my perspective widened over the last few months. When I investigated and booked a trek, my world became wider. When I pause instead of rushing, I see the moment, not the future. By looking at the world differently, we see a different world. When we read or listen to a new voice, our understanding gets broader. If I go somewhere and do something for the first time, my life experience is more profound.

The most unsettling effect of the pandemic is the disruption of normal. All that I took for granted is more difficult or impossible. The things I treasure are restricted. The acts of indulgence and kindness are limited. My grief for 'what was' is visceral, and even though I can rationalize them away, it is still real.

Maybe I have missed a window to shift, a door to a new journey, a chance to do and be more. Instead of grieving, I could celebrate the pace. I could appreciate the opportunity to spend time with my beloved, even if we are both deep in a book. My diet has changed - I eat healthier and am more discerning in my choices. I am in better physical shape - stronger and fitter than a year ago. In my resignation and acceptance, I find peace.

It isn't all rainbows and unicorns. I can still get 'woe is me' or angry or disgusted. The selfishness and stubbornness in others (that I may not see in myself) can create a stream of unkind words and vengeful imaginings. Still, I am also more aware of my own beliefs and how they influence the data I see and the data I collect. I know the filter of my values can distort the options that I have seen, the choices I am making, and the actions that ensue.

In writing the last paragraph, I recognize that I have both wasted and made the best of the realities of the pandemic. Sometimes, I did both simultaneously, but just like the binoculars and the Joni Mitchell song "I've Looked at Life From Both Sides, Now."

I can be a creature of habit and choose to live narrowly or opt for richness and surprise. But, unfortunately, mediocrity lives and thrives in habitual practice, routine observations, and rigid, echo chamber ideas.

This week, let's explore getting wider and broader.

B