Being Breath

stories from the wilderness of everyday life

Playing With Perspective

Perspective, perspective, perspective.

What kind of weekend was it?

First, this happened:

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Everyone was ok (save for my swollen lip that made me look like I had a botox job-gone-wrong ... it was quite funny).  But it created a problem with our car's trunk, which would no longer properly close.  Which, on a normal, we-have-nowhere-to-go type weekend would have been fine, except....

this had to happen:

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Quick stop at the welcome-to-West-Virginia rest stop

My husband and I made the quickest-long trip we've done since our college days.  12 hours on the road in one day - back and forth from Indiana to West Virginia.  (I owe my mother SO very much for watching our kiddos that day.  I'm not sure any of us could've taken 12 hours of, "are we there yet?", "are we there yet?".)

We did that trip because of the generosity of my relatives.  Once again gratitude swells, because they passed along a treasure to my husband...and apparently, to my children.

Because today, now that we are back home, 

this is happening:

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Assembly in progress once we finish posing for photos.

A drum set that my husband has wanted for years is getting oh-so-carefully set up (while the kids enjoy exploring the sounds that each one makes).

My perspectives on this weekend made it one of the best weekends in recent memory.

It could've easily been otherwise.

The facts remain the same:

We were rear-ended in our mini-van.  No one was seriously injured.  Our children were frightened.  All cars remain driveable.

We did a 12-hour, round-trip journey to obtain a drum set.

We are now all in the same room.  I work on my art, the kids play on the drums, my husband researches how to put them together so that they are perfectly assembled.

But with a change of perspective, the same facts could've led to a "horrible" weekend.

We were rear-ended in our mini-van.  The damn thing has so much damage it might be totaled.  We had it paid off, and now we might have a huge financial burden.  Our kids are scarred from that experience.

We had to drive 12 hours in one day because of impending bad weather.  We ache and are exhausted.  I had to eat crappy food (and felt nasty that night because of it).  

We are now all in the same room.  I can't concentrate because of the pounding.  I have no interest in playing drums, and now we have this huge set in my studio area.  We now have a drum set and a trumpet in the household - two of the nosiest instruments.  I can sense all of the fights we are going to have about this.

Here's how I choose to look at it.  Not changing any facts, mind you - just changing perspective:

We were rear-ended in our mini-van.  The guy who hit us was one of the nicest people we've met.  No one was seriously injured, all of our doors open, the van is driveable.  We won't have to pay (of course, his insurance wil take care of it).  It truly made me realize how fortunate I am to have everything that I do.

We got to spend 12 hours in the car together.  My husband and I had hours of uninterrupted conversation - such valuable time to reconnect.  We saw beautiful scenery, countryside we haven't seen in years.  We got to see my aunt and her husband, to share stories for a while.  No bad weather - the trunk of the car stayed closed.

We are all now in the same room.  The whole family, spending time in the same room!! How lucky are we?  We are all creatively playing, doing things that we love to do.  We are modeling for our children activities that they can do based off of their passions.  My husband gets his drum set after all of these years, and will hopefully find a deeper happiness as he makes time to play and sink into musical creative time.  Our children get the opportunity to learn a new instrument.

The facts remain the same.  

But at the end of the weekend, I can whine and complain ... or realize just how fortunate I am to be experiencing all of this.  It certainly changes how I feel in this very moment.

It's my choice.

And thinking back on your weekend....

what will you choose?

Namaste.