You ever sit there, just staring at people going about their day, and think, "What the heck is everyone else seeing that I’m not?" Like, we’re all in this world together, bumping into each other (sometimes literally), but somehow, none of us seem to agree on what’s actually happening. It’s like that classic line from a rom-com: "We’re on the same planet but in completely different worlds." And honestly, the more I think about it, the more ridiculous—and kind of beautiful—that realization is.
It all boils down to the fact that, no matter who you are—monk, millionaire, your average Joe—we’re all seeing life through our own personal set of glasses .. we’re rocking those funky, uniquely tinted ones that make everything look just a little bit different for each of us. And .. no matter how hard you try, you can't swap glasses with anyone else.
Let me give you a little story to show you what I mean, because stories are how we make sense of this thing called life, right?
.. You're sitting in a coffee shop (because that’s where all deep thinking happens, obviously). You’ve got your overpriced latte, and at the window table are three other people, staring out at the street. It’s a pretty standard scene, nothing too special—just some pedestrians, cars, maybe a stray pigeon pecking at an old fry. But here’s where things get interesting.
The first person at the table? They’re a writer. Their brain is a nonstop conveyor belt of random ideas, so when they see a woman crossing the street, they immediately think, "Wow, she’s definitely the protagonist of my next novel." And boom, the gears start turning, and in their head, they’re already drafting a tragic backstory for this woman involving lost love and a secret mission to save her cat.
Then there’s the second person. They’re a construction worker, just taking a break. They look out the same window, at the same street, but all they can focus on is the road. "This pavement is an absolute disaster," they think. "Someone needs to repave this mess." They’re not dreaming up characters or backstories—they’re mentally running through asphalt types and pothole-filling techniques. You know, real riveting stuff.
Finally, the third person—a tourist from some quiet little town, wide-eyed and blown away by the big city life. To them, the scene outside isn’t about novels or potholes. It’s about how vibrant and fast-paced everything is. "Wow, so many people, so much going on," they marvel, probably wondering if they could even handle living in a place like this.
So, they’re all looking at the exact same street, at the same time, through the same window. But what they see? Completely different .. no matter how close we are physically, our minds are galaxies apart.
And isn’t that just life in a nutshell? We’re all wandering around, bumping into each other, completely convinced that our way of seeing things is the way things "are". Then we get upset when people don’t get us. We stomp our feet, furrow our brows, and say things like, "Why can’t they see what I’m seeing?!"
But of course, they can’t. They physically cannot. Their brains are wired differently, they’ve had different experiences, and they’ve got their own funky glasses on, just like you do. And yet, somehow, we keep expecting people to read our minds. Which, when you really think about it, is kind of hilarious. We’re walking around in these incredibly personal, invisible worlds, and then we get shocked when someone doesn’t react to something the way we would.
Maybe the trick here, is to just... let it go. Stop expecting everyone to live in your world, and start embracing the chaos of it all. You’re never going to fully understand what someone else is seeing, but that’s okay. The beauty is in the differences, right?
So, next time you’re getting worked up because someone doesn’t see things your way, just remember: you’re both looking through your own personal kaleidoscopes.