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Foggy Windows

Here’s a thought I’d like to share…

Let me just begin by saying that there are two sides to every story. This is my side, the right one. ~ Olive Penderghast

I drive a ’66 Mustang. She’s awesome! She’s fun, and she keeps me mindful of what it means to “cruise along.” However, like most of us old gals, she can be a bit ornery at times. Her age shows when it’s rainy and foggy. Her windshield wipers speed up only when I accelerate and her windshield fogs up quickly and completely whenever it’s really humid. And, because I live in the South, these conditions are not particularly rare occurrences.

The other day, coming home from teaching yoga, McKenzie was with me and it was raining. In only a few minutes the windshield was fogged. I pulled out my handily stashed hanky and wiped my side clear. When I pulled up to the next stop sign, I asked her if she wanted to clean her side of the windshield. Her response made me laugh. She said, “Yes! It feels like because I can’t see, you can’t either.”

How often do we unconsciously think that what we “see” is what others see as well?  We imagine that our ‘view of the world’ is correct or true, simply because it is what we see at the time.

What if we took into account that, no matter what we see, think, or believe, there is always more to it? There is more than one side, more than one way, more than one view. We all bring different experiences, habits, and abilities to the moment, and each one of those things can cloud or color the way we see things.

We often judge other people’s behaviors based on how we would behave in the same situation, saying, “I would never do X!” Here’s the rub…how do we know? We can’t know how someone else sees something, but yet we think the person made the decision to do whatever X is with the same view of the world (or situation) that we hold. …Probably not.

So, I pledge to try to remember that just because I see things the way I see things, doesn’t mean that you (or anyone else) see them the same way.

Wishing us a clear view of all we can’t see,

Namasté Augusta

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