The Lenses We Choose to See Through
This morning, I went for a walk.
I try to do that whenever I can. Get outside. Spend some time in the sun. Maybe bring a notebook and write. It’s something I’ve done for years, and I’ve learned that how you begin your day can have a surprisingly large impact on how you experience the rest of it.
When I came home, I took a shower and looked in the mirror.
Without my glasses.
My prescription is -5.75, so without them, I’m basically blind. I could see that there was a person standing in front of me, but I couldn’t make out the features of my own face.
Then I put my glasses on.
Everything became clear.
And for some reason, that moment made me think about perspective.
I’ve spent a lot of my life learning how to interact with people. Years of working in restaurants taught me how to serve, communicate, read people, show up for others, and care about the experience I was creating.
At first, a lot of it was a performance. I wanted good tips. I wanted to get through the shift.
But something interesting happened over time:
What you practice is what you become.
The more I practiced showing up with a smile, caring about people, listening, and trying to make someone's day a little better, the more natural it became. Eventually, it stopped being something I had to perform and became part of who I was.
And I think positivity works the same way.
It isn't pretending that everything is good. It isn't ignoring pain or forcing yourself to be happy when you're not.
It's a lens.
Just like my glasses allow me to see the world clearly, I can choose to develop ways of seeing the world that allow me to recognize beauty, possibility, and connection—even when the painful parts are still there.
Every interaction becomes an opportunity to practice.
Smile at someone. Listen to them. Make them laugh. Give them a little grace. Show up with the intention of making the interaction better instead of worse.
You won't change everyone. Some people will still be miserable. Life will still throw things at you. You will still get frustrated, overwhelmed, angry, and tired.
But the more you practice seeing differently, the easier it becomes to return to that perspective.
And eventually, something changes.
You start treating yourself the way you've been learning to treat other people.
You give yourself grace.
You take care of yourself.
You begin to believe that you deserve the same kindness you've been offering everyone else.
That's where I think the real transformation happens.
I look back at who I was years ago—the person who struggled with depression, addiction, cynicism, and a very different way of seeing the world—and I can hardly recognize him sometimes.
But I don't want to forget him.
He went through the storm that taught me how to see.
And now I get to walk into a room and bring something different with me.
Not because I've never known pain, but because I've known it intimately and learned how to move through it.
That's a blessing.
A responsibility, too.
But a blessing.
Every morning, I get to put on my glasses.
And every morning, I get another opportunity to choose the lenses through which I experience the world.
Want to hear more? The Wondered Bliss Podcast is where I explore the ideas, experiences, questions, and lessons that shape the way I see life. From relationships and personal growth to creativity, faith, and the strange lessons we learn along the way, each episode is an honest conversation about becoming who we’re capable of becoming. If this idea resonated with you, come listen to the full conversation on The Wondered Bliss Podcast.
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