Standing Too Close?
Perspective doesn't remove suffering. It reminds us that suffering is not the whole picture.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about perspective. Not the kind you gain from reading a book or taking a class. The kind that arrives when you finally step back far enough to see what has been there all along. I see it in my own life, in the lives of friends, and in the people who join me in workshops, meditations, and conversations. When we’re hurting, we often stand so close to the painting that we can only see one brushstroke.
Say someone is struggling with a relationship, a job, a family member, a loss, or a disappointment. What do they do? They tell the story to themselves and every detail makes sense. Their feelings are real. Their pain is real. Their frustration is real.
But that’s not the whole picture now, is it? They’re standing so close they can only see from one tight perspective.
When we’re hurting, that’s what happens. Attention narrows, and the difficult conversation becomes the whole relationship. The setback becomes the only “real” perspective. The disappointment is now everything and we’re blind to the rest of the picture.
I know I’ve done it myself. I’ve had moments when a worry or frustration grew so large in my mind that it blocked out everything around it. In those moments, it’s easy to believe that this thing, whatever it is, is all there is.
That’s the trap. Not the suffering itself, but the belief that suffering is the only thing happening.
A practice I sometimes share with my clients is to imagine stepping behind yourself. Seeing the situation from behind the chair, or high above, as though you’re a bird perched quietly in the rafters.
Not to detach from the experience or to judge. Simply to see more. When we can step back and see from a different vantage point, new information appears.
You notice the fear underneath someone’s anger. You notice the love underneath someone’s awkward attempt to help. You notice that another person’s reaction may have very little to do with you at all. You notice possibilities that weren’t visible from inside the storm.
The situation hasn’t changed, but your perspective has. Sometimes that changes everything and we open to different ways of seeing what we once thought was cast in stone.
I’ve learned that when my heart feels heavy, one of the best things I can do is look around. The sky doesn’t solve my problems. Seeing a flower doesn’t erase grief.
The trees don’t magically answer difficult questions.
All that simply remind me that there is more than this worry, this moment. More than the story I’m telling myself.
LOOK.
The world is still here.
Beauty is still here.
Love is still here.
Possibility is still here.
Not instead of suffering, but alongside it.
Perspective gives us just enough distance to remember that we’re standing in front of a very large painting.
And there is always more to see, isn’t there?
Perhaps that’s the invitation: to step back from the painting now and give ourselves enough distance to see the larger picture.
To remember that there is more here than the thing that hurts. We can use that fresh perspective to hold compassion for ourselves when we get stuck, and for others when they do.


