We’re all wearing sunglasses….

How we view the world shapes how we respond to it.

“Well, duh,” you say.

But if this is true, the ramifications for us could be tremendous.

If people see the world differently, they respond differently. And this idea reveals that there is more than one way to see the world. So if there is more than one way to see the world, can I choose my point of view?

Yes. We know we can.

Think about the last time you heard a story with a twist ending. You thought one thing was the truth, but the reality at the end stunned you. You’ve just changed your perspective. So we can choose.

And since we do have a choice in how we view the world, we have a direct responsibility to change and improve our reactions to it.

“Wait,” you say, “we have a responsibility to improve?”

Well, don’t you want others to improve? Don’t you want that internet troll to respond differently? Don’t you want your spouse to respond differently? Your boss? Your partner? Your friends?

It follows that if you want others to improve, others want you to improve. I know, I know, it’s hard to hear. When we mess up, we freely excuse our mistakes with “nobody’s perfect.” But there is an unspoken wish among our communities that we all strive to become better. Nobody wants to become worse, that’s for sure.

And, if we are to become better humans, better spouses, better parents, better friends, better leaders -we must become the masters of our own world-view, our own perspectives, and intentionally shape it moment by moment in order to become that ever elusive better.

Let’s take an example.

I just finished listening to Humankind: A Hopeful History by Rutger Bregman on Audible, and his ultimate premise is that true realists take an optimistic view of other people. He uses social science, research, and a plethora of stories from real life as examples to support this claim. After listening, I can’t help but connect his premise to mine.

Bregman argues that when we see other people through an optimistic lens — when we choose to trust them rather than to distrust, for example- we respond in ways that lead to building a trustworthy response from others. Our positive point of view acts like a pebble in a pond, sending out positive waves that in turn shape the views of others.

He relates one example of a young man who hands over his coat to his would-be robber and then takes him out for a bite to eat. The young man’s kindness towards the robber engenders a kind response in turn. Bregman works to prove that when we see others as inherently kind people who want to do the right thing, then our perspective and our response can influence theirs. It’s a fascinating book, and I highly recommend it.

But what I think is most interesting about Bregman’s argument is that it’s really all about how we see the world. The lens we choose to use.

Only recently have I really believed that I can be aware of the lens I’m looking through at any given moment and then deliberately make a choice to change that lens to engender a better outcome.

Take this metaphor. Imagine we’re blind from birth, but if we put on sunglasses, we can see. At birth, we’re given a pair of sunglasses by our parents, our education, our friends, our culture, our time period in history. And so we see the world.

As we grow up, we don’t really realize we’re wearing sunglasses. Then all of a sudden, something we read, or watch, or a person we meet knocks off the pair we’ve been wearing and puts a different set on us. Perhaps the old sunglasses are rose tinted, while the new ones lean blue. The world we’ve been looking at – which has not changed in itself- suddenly looks different. Perhaps we can even see more clearly. And in that moment we realize we can change our lens. Change our world view.

Well, that metaphor is not just a metaphor. It’s a truth. We can change our lens. And when we do, we see better. And when we see better. We act better.

That’s the first step. To realize that no matter how we look, we’re always looking through a lens.

How are you looking at the situation with your boss? With your spouse? With your friend? With your child?

For example, right now I’m reading Kathleen Edleman’s book A Grown Up’s Guide to Kid’s Wiring, and one principle that she repeats over and over is that as parents we should respond to the why behind our children’s behavior rather than the what. When my daughter interrupts me when I’m on the phone, I can choose to look through the “why” lens or the “what” lens. If I look through the “what” lens — which I admit I have the propensity to do — I see a child who is being disrespectful and breaking a rule she has been reminded of a million times.

How will I react when I look through this lens? I will be frustrated, I may snap at her, and I’ll definitely be annoyed. Edleman argues that looking through the “what” lens will not help us teach our children to do better next time. This makes sense for me. My kids don’t learn best when I’m angry at them. They learn best when I’m working with them and we’re on the same page. Educational and brain research backs this up. Judy Willis is one of my favorite education authors who delves into the neuroscience of learning. Check out her book if you’re interested. Children don’t learn when they’re stressed or scared. In fact, our brain wiring actually inhibits learning when our limbic system is turned on.

So what’s a parent to do? How can I not be frustrated, annoyed, and snappish with my little interrupter?

The next step is to evaluate whether the lens we’re looking through is the right one for the present situation.

I change my lens.
I change my perspective.
I put on the why sunglasses, to use Edelman’s example.

When I think about why my daughter is interrupting, I can respond in a different way. Perhaps I consider that she has been reading by herself all this summer morning and that she is so proud she has finished her book she wants to show me. If I snap, I am killing that joy, shutting down something I should be celebrating with her. If I snap, I’m also triggering her limbic system which shuts down learning – so she’ll just keep interrupting me.

So I don’t snap. I look through the why with compassion. I smile and gently hold up a finger, with a smile on my face and light in my eyes. But how do I still teach her that it’s not ok to interrupt? Edleman’s book gives readers an amazing platform to think through this example and more. I bring it up here because I think we all could see how a change in lens can lead to transformation in our actions.

In the coming posts, I’ll try to sell you on a new pair of sunglasses. The lens of paradox.

In my life so far, it’s been the most interesting and helpful one to look through.

• About Me
• Books
• Posts