3 Ordinary Reminders Our World Comes from Within
Acknowledging that for better and worse, our lives happen in our heads
Sometimes when we feel low or slighted by life, we reach out to our closest relationships for validation that in fact our life is terrible, and anyone would objectively view it as such. Usually we are simply looking for sympathy or acknowledgement so we have permission to feel bad before moving forward, but that is rarely the response we receive.
We may get the brush off with a brusque “suck it up” attitude — asserting that our problems are not real problems, not big enough to be acknowledged. This can quickly result in doubling our search for external validation.
Or we are thrown an unhelpful, overly simple solution:
You: “My coworker is really getting under my skin.”
Your ‘solutioneer’ friend: “Well maybe you should talk to them.”
You: “…thanks.” (you should write a book, Dr. Phil)
Or perhaps the most frustrating of all, you spill your problems to your suddenly Buddhist friend:
“Sounds like the problem is your mindset.” Or “Have you tried changing how you feel about it?’
This advice can be grating because it is simultaneously unhelpful and true. Not only does it carry the frustration of other responses (the seeming dismissal of being told to suck it up or the “easy” solution we must have missed), it also imparts onus of action back onto us which is the last thing we are looking for in the first throes of conflict.
Then, inevitably, this advice finishes like a burning swallow of scotch when we realize: it’s right.
Platitudes like “you can’t change the world, just your reaction to it” and “we don’t see the world as it is, we see it as we are” can feel aggravatingly empty when all we want is to rail against external forces, but life is full of reminders that our world is inevitably painted by our experiences. What’s more, as we acknowledge our perspective can change our world, we then have the option to choose different perspectives and in effect choose our experience.
Staring at the stars
One of the most accessible perspectives to us is watching and contemplating outer space.
Staring in the cosmos can make us consider enormity that surrounds us: the distance between us and the stars we see is unimaginable, each speck of light thousands of times larger than the rock we spin on. Knowing that, we may seem small, and yet those few photons of light from the star we see, the ones that traveled for literal years to cover the distance find their first obstacle on the long journey as they collide against our retinas.
If we are patient enough while stargazing, we can notice the movement of the moon and constellations, reminding us of the rotation we constantly experience and yet rarely think about. The moon also reminds us that elsewhere, even in other hemispheres, thousands of other pairs of eyes are staring at the same bright orb. Satellites slide past our view, launched by people, organizations, and countries we will likely never know or visit.
Steeping ourselves in the awe of the scale of the universe can be calming or overwhelming. Carrying either interpretation as we return to the Earth, tuning back into our friends’ conversation about a stolen parking spot, it’s hard to feel our problems with the same weight. Was that really us complaining about accidentally buying salted butter when we needed unsalted?
Marinating in a larger perspective will naturally shrink many of our problems, some of the smaller ones may stop feeling like problems at all. The details of our problems will not have changed, but our understanding of it will.
Taking a trip (just far enough away)
Closer to home than the edges of the Milky Way, we can adjust our mindsets by traveling and spending dedicated time in a new location.
After one year in the corporate world, I spent all my accrued vacation time (and a decent amount of my savings) on a trip to Europe. At the time, I was burning out, reeling from the transition into the corporate world, and desperate to believe that life was more than commuting to spend our waking hours staring at a screen so we could be too tired to do much after commuting home.
Europe obliged. Teeming with people out to long lunches, sipping coffee and cocktails in business attire at all hours, taking siestas, and staying up late into the night to drink and chat with strangers, I realized that the slice of American work life I had been experiencing was just that: a slice. Returning home to a world of set schedules, one-hour lunches, and a surprisingly negative attitude towards afternoon naps, I was jarred to think our assumptions of normal would feel entirely foreign to most of the world. Life does not have to be a certain way just because we are used to it.
Traveling across oceans can be a great way to gain perspective, but the physical distance we travel is not as important as the emotional distance. We do not need to fly to Paris — we only need to travel outside of our normal.
This might include:
- Traveling to the city if you live in the suburbs
- Traveling to the suburbs if you live in the city
- Spending time on a working farm
- Volunteering our time for any political or social cause outside of our lived experience
Our comfort zones give us time to rest and recuperate, but if they are never stretched, they become an echo chamber, reinforcing imagined barriers and limitations.
Watching a movie/show again years later
Once a film production is wrapped and distributed, the content does not change. The same frames in the same order with the same sound can be played over and over with the same fidelity. The effect on us, however, can be completely different from one play to the next.
How often have you found yourself in these situations?
- A childhood show you thought was hilarious (and have touted for years as one of your favorites) turns out to be awful when you revisit it. This discovery often happens when you have gathered all your friends to indulge in your nostalgia
- Seeing a movie in a new context, like sitting next to your new romantic partner, you realize it’s actually a pretty sexist movie
- Hearing about and/or participating in social movements removes the veneer to reveal a movie feels pretty racist (e.g. Gone with the Wind)
- You realize the protagonist of the tale doesn’t actually have a justified cause (Joseph Gordon Leavitt’s character in 500 Days of Summer, perhaps)
- A show that seemed overly dull or procedural is actually an interesting piece of human drama (maybe The West Wing)
Movies and shows can be the starkest reminders that something we once internalized as universally good or bad are just as subject to the context of our minds as anything else. Additionally, we can see the dissonance we create for ourselves when we hold onto a previous interpretation that no longer feels authentic.
Remembering instances like the above reminds ourselves how much of our internal feelings create the world we experience. Often it is easier to believe this when we experience emotional responses we feel are “allowed.” For instance, when someone close to us passes away, we know the world feels sad to us. When we find ourselves in conflict with external forces or other people, however, it is harder to acknowledge the role we play in processing issues. This is especially true when other parties are to blame for a given situation.
Internalizing our ability to choose our reactions allows us to turn a new leaf in how we process our lives and navigate our challenges. Noticing reactions without identifying with them becomes empowering, a new tool to help us process even our most stubborn internal demons. As we become more practiced, this freedom becomes intoxicating to the point where we may become the irritating enlightened friend that told us it was all in our heads in the first place.
May we all be so irritating.
