Perspective

Bird’s Eye: Mind’s Eye

Have you noticed how a different perspective can alter our mindset? A call from an unknown number that turns out to be an acquaintance that we have not spoken with in some time becomes a reward. A wrong turn that diverts into a shortcut and delivers us back on our intended route. A change of aircraft that converts our middle seat into an aisle seat in the exit row with ample legroom. We are quick to judge and adopt a protective mindset. It can be challenging to embrace uncertainty, even when it leads to a favorable outcome.

When we get a chance to view our surroundings from a new perspective, it can be disorienting, but it also reveals a dimension that was unavailable when we were hyperlocal.

Up Close

As we move closer to objects, our perspective may change. As a kid, there was a rock formation that I forever believed to be a pile of rocks sitting perfectly on the saddle of the Continental Divide. However, one summer we hiked to the pass, and when I got closer, I realized my perception and reality were not aligned. A spire of rocks hung off the side of a cliff face on the far side of the saddle, but when viewed from the valley, it became a prominent landmark.

Show Your Work

Grooming at larger ski resorts typically takes place in the evening. With the addition of halligen lights, grooming cats illuminate the night sky. Spend a few moments, and you will see their work in progress. Even when the mountain’s scale is hard to comprehend, knowing their overnight labor is tomorrow’s joyous adventure is rewarding.

Perspective

If you search Google Maps for the Gulf of Mexico, you will generatedifferent results depending on which country your search originates in. A United States search delivers the Gulf of America, and a search in Mexico reveals the Gulf of Mexico. Regardless of the politics behind this naming dispute, it is a quick illustration that we might see the same thing but have different ways of articulating the answer.

The Gutter

Gutters help keep the primary travel surface free of debris and precipitation. They collect everything from snow to trash to lost treasure. We barely see the gutter if the central lane is free of obstacles. But we reach a liminal zone when forced to navigate using the gutter due to hindrances, too many pedestrians on the sidewalk, or to evade collision. Gutters serve as thresholds between different forms of travel. Until we venture into one to expedite our journey or utilize it in an emergency, we rarely pause as we cross this boundary.

However, it can become emotional when forced into the gutter to accommodate a person or object deemed a priority. For example, proprietors may claim sidewalk space for their enterprise and route passersby into the gutter as egress. A poorly parked vehicle that

Navigating by gutters can add to our journey: it can make room for a wedding party spilling out of a church, creep past a fire truck engaged in emergency services, or accommodate a new neighbor moving into an adjacent property.

How might we recognize that how we position and communicate a detour, a reroute, or a temporary barrier may be interpreted in various ways?

Air Traffic Control vs Air Plane Passenger

The differences between an air traffic controller and a passenger on a commercial flight are numerous. One of the most important is that the controller has a perspective on the entire sector. As a passenger, there is little awareness about the actions and intentions of other aircraft. Passengers are afforded a spectacular view of the surrounding scenery, which the controller does not get from looking at their screens.

How might we amplify the strengths of each role we inhabit without trying to make them overlap?

Relative

Speed is relative. When running on the promenade deck of an ocean cruise boat, we get a peculiar GPS recording. The ship’s forward momentum might be faster than our average pace, so we progress across the ocean, even when our run changes to walking or standing. Viewed by a passenger sitting in a deck chair, our running speed might be assessed at 8 mph. Seen by a lighthouse tender as the vessel passes close by, we are estimated to be moving at our running pace, plus the ship’s speed. Now, our relative speed might be over 25 mph.

How might we recognize our perspective is relative? We see things from a unique perspective, and our assessment is relative to location. What may feel fast, slow, big, small, daring, safe, lonely, crowded, remarkable, or average is relative.

Backlight

What perspective becomes visible when you add backlighting? How might we use different approaches to consider an idea instead of approaching from the same direction at the same time of day? If you head out on a night hike, navigate in a snowstorm, or work from poorly scaled maps, you experience alternate ways of traveling.

How might we occupy diverse vantage points at irregular times of day to see the terrain ahead in both ideal and challenging conditions?