Shifting Our Perspectives
Charlotte Moore, Senior Advisor + Producer
“If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”
Antelope Canyon, Arizona, on Navajo land. Photo credit: Victoria Wang
That quote is credited to the early 20th century German physicist Max Planck. More recently, motivational speaker Wayne Dyer gave the quote new life. Dyer was part of a group of writers and speakers who championed a modern enlightenment movement, encouraging readers to go inward in order to grow spiritually. Self-discovery, they taught, could lead to peace and connection.
I recall feeling aligned with this enlightenment talk. Much of what Dyer wrote had long been reflected in the messages I’d received growing up as a Black child in a predominately African American community. Ideas of enlightenment were infused in the culture — in music, poetry, film, and books. For many people I knew, enlightenment was as much about physical survival as it was about spiritual growth.
As a curious and somewhat introverted child, I saw my ‘enlightened’ self as a gossamer-winged fairy, flying through a bright, colorful, whimsical, glittery realm! As a more extroverted adult news journalist, I've had to work to hang onto that vision.
Today, social media has helped bring every aspect of humanity to our collective attention. It can feel an extravagant luxury — or wasteful, even — to wish for whimsy. Many of us are bombarded daily with news of inequality and injustice as we witness the widening of political and economic divides in our communities. Human connection is being tested. Doubt is creeping in, for some, around who can be trusted. Even curious extroverts like myself are choosing to protect our time and space in an effort to foster internal peace.
When Connecting Our Stories began preparing to host a lunchtime gathering of women to discuss the idea of courage, I immediately thought I'd sit this meeting out. I assumed the women in attendance would not be thinking what I'm thinking about "courage" right now. But, ultimately, I did attend the gathering. And, of course, these women were thinking about courage in ways that mirrored my own thoughts. Some even described how courage was being manifested in situations I hadn't considered.
A few mornings after that gathering, I went out onto my east-facing balcony and sat down on a blanket to journal. The sun was fast ascending, bringing with it a direct heat and blinding rays that made writing seem more a chore than a cheer. Frustrated, I moved to stand to go back inside when I bumped into a chair I rarely use. The back of the chair landed in such a way as to block the rising sun, which in turn cast shade on exactly the little patch of space where I sat.
After a beat, I smiled and settled back down to write. It was still hot, yet I knew that, at least for a little while, I was shielded. The chair shifting just that little bit made a huge difference for me.
I’ll never be able to move the sun. I, alone, can’t do much about the major problems that ail society at the moment. And, people may not always live up to my expectations, nor I to theirs.
But, I don't want to look away from the things I see. And, maybe, with even the smallest shifts — of body, of surroundings, of thinking — I can view the things around me in ways that reinforce inner peace, healing, and deeper connection with community.