Each of us sees the world through a particular lens—a perspective shaped by our life experiences, upbringing, education, relationships, and even the voices we’ve trusted along the way. As much as we might try to be objective, we all view the world subjectively. Our perspective is, quite literally, a “view from a point.”
Imagine standing on different sides of a mountain. The mountain itself hasn’t changed, but what you see—and how you describe it—varies dramatically depending on your vantage point. Some might see steep cliffs, others a gentle slope. Still others, standing on a plateau, might feel they’re not even on a mountain at all. The same is true in how we understand politics, relationships, spirituality, or justice. Our location—emotional, intellectual, spiritual—shapes our vision.
The challenge comes when we enter conversations with others who see the world differently. Especially in our polarized world, we often cling to the belief that our view is the right one, the true one. We may not even realize we’re doing it. But when we assume our perspective is the perspective, we close ourselves off from the possibility of deeper connection and understanding.
What if we could learn to acknowledge that we have a perspective, rather than insisting we are our perspective?
Being in conversation with someone who sees things differently doesn’t mean you have to give up your values. It means suspending the need to be right long enough to listen with openness and curiosity. It means acknowledging your own lens while honoring the lens of another. It’s not easy work—especially when our tribal instincts kick in and tell us that our identity or even survival depends on defending our viewpoint.
But here’s the good news: you are more than your opinions. You are an infinitely precious, unconditionally loved human being. So is the person across from you. If we can begin from that truth—if we can root our conversations in the inherent worth of each person—we might just find that listening becomes less threatening and more transformative.
Of course, not every conversation is safe or necessary. If someone denies your personhood or the dignity of those you love, you have every right to walk away. But when it is possible to stay—when we can listen without judgment and speak without needing to win—we begin to build bridges instead of walls.
So today, I invite you to practice this:
Be curious, not judgmental.
Recognize the perspective you bring.
Honor the gift that is someone else’s view.
And remember, you are infinitely precious and unconditionally loved for the gift that you are.
Let that truth guide your conversations and your connections.
Until next time—
Be the gift that you are, today.
