Perspective (Written September 20, 2017)
Perspective is a curious thing,
The difference between a good day or bad.
It isn’t that it changes what is true,
But it changes what good can be had.
I think I prefer to spend my time alone,
They, it turns out, are much afraid of me.
Outsiders think I’ve been ostracized
And bullying is what they see.
The snow that blocks the business man’s road
Is also the children’s wonderland.
The criticism you so greatly despise
Is to others a great helping hand.
Truth is truth, no matter where you stand,
It isn’t relative, or defined by you,
But how you chose to consider it
Is the greatest decider of what you do.
First off: I don’t believe truth is defined by the viewer. That being said, I don’t believe truth is simple, either. If I show you a picture of a tree on the wall and ask you what it is you could answer, correctly, that it is a painting, that it is a tree, that it is canvas in a wooden frame, or even that it is something covering part of the wall. These are all aspects of the truth. Which aspect you chose to focus on will decide how you interact with that reality and what you can learn and gain from it.
(To be clear, truth isn’t relative. All the different ways you could define the picture on the wall are all simultaneously true because they represent the reality. If any of those definitions contradicted one another then they could not both be true. It could not at the same time be on the wall and not on the wall. Both those things can be true, but not at the same time. It cannot be both good and bad art if good and bad are being discussed concerning the same aspect of the art- if we are discussing artistic quality of the overall piece we cannot call it both good and bad, though we can call specific aspects of the art differently.)
More to what I was thinking of when I wrote this, however, is the topic of human interaction. When I was in highschool I spent most of my time alone. I avoided hanging out with one particular group because I kind of hated people and preferred quiet. The other students, it turns out, avoided hanging out with me frequently because they were scared stiff of me. Both those things are true at the same time, though I didn’t know they were scared of me and they didn’t know I didn’t like being around people. The funniest part, though, is that the teachers thought I was the victim of bullying. From the teachers’ perspective the students were bullying me, from the students’ perspective they were avoiding the bully (I guess), and the bully (I guess that is me) was entirely oblivious to any social tension and was just messing around alone however they felt like.
Hmm… That was a little bit all over the place. I’m having trouble ordering my thoughts right now, I suppose. That was a little bit word vomit. =| I’ll do better next time.
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