“Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world.” ―
Our perceptions are as consequential to us as our ability to think, breathe and feel. They have the power to dictate:
- how we see the world,
- how we treat other people,
- how we feel about ourselves.
Our perceptions have the power to lift us up or tear us down; give us strength or make us weak; mark us for greatness or manufacture our demise. They feel real but are, in fact, ephemeral, the mind’s interpretation of what the eyes see. Like the clouds in the sky, appearing to be substantial.
Certain perceptions will conjure in us fear and hostility and when left unchallenged have the power to set the world on fire. If we don’t question our perceptions they can lead us into dark and treacherous places.
In my early life I often perceived myself as either superior or inferior to my friends — never as equal. The bewildering consequence was that I found myself a lonely lad, always competing, seldom cooperating.
This was driven home to me in my very first AA meeting —
It was Friday evening, June 14, 1985 at the Lutheran Student Center on the campus of the University of Washington. I had climbed a flight stairs to the second floor and came upon a room of 15 people seated around a table.
Quite honestly, I didn’t know what to expect. My preconceptions of an alcoholic were of a down-and-outer living on skid row, so my mind immediately formed these kinds of biases about each person gathered around the table.
“Everyone looks stupid once you set your mind to it.” Author unknown
They guy who chaired the meeting looked to me like an unemployed tradesman, so when he shared he was a particle physicist who drank the same brand of Harp and liked the same Irish bars as I did — I was a little taken back.
Ouch! — strike one on that perception.
Then an older woman spoke who I wrote off as brandy-swigging grandma of no particular consequence. So when she shared her harrowing story of being a globe-trotting journalist who’d even spent time in North Korea, I felt like I’d been whacked over the head with a ruler.
Ouch! ~ strike two on that perception.
The coup de grace came when a wide-eyed man spoke who I perceived to be suffering from a grave mental illness. I quickly sized him up as a whack job and prepared to write him off.
Then he did something you rarely see in meetings: he addressed his remarks to me, personally, as the newcomer. He began by sharing he’d been a math professor at a major state university and had spent two years high on NyQuil. As he developed his story it sounded strangely like my own. He spoke with a startling clarity and riveting honesty. I choked up. I couldn’t imagine anyone would dare to be that open and honest with a perfect stranger.
Ouch! ~ Strike three on that perception.
My perceptions of these wonderful human beings had been formed by my own distorted perception of myself. But this was to change.
I went to coffee after the meeting with a carpenter who’d been sober a long time. He was a quiet, steady sort — a guy obviously comfortable in his own skin.
So there, staring into my coffee, I asked him the one question that I’d struggled with the longest time: “How do you know when you hit bottom?” He responded without hesitation,
“When you quit digging.”
Pow! My perception of my life, my self and everything changed on that Friday evening in 1985.
I went from being a victim of my past to the author of my future. What happened to me was cold, hard honesty. It cracked the lens through which I saw life. It changed my perception of what is real and what is imaginary.
I’ve been feeding off that perception for the last 37 years.
“What you see and what you hear depends a great deal on where you are standing. It also depends on what sort of person you are.” ―
Just a thought…
Pat
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