I Need to See What You See

Well, our little experiment wasn’t quite ready with a new practice when February came rolling in. And that’s okay. This adventure is meant to be life-giving, not life-demanding. February’s practice turned out to be a pause.

What has filled the month?

There has been good and beauty. Members of our local community have spent the month doing what they love to fight what they hate—finding creative ways to use the abundance in our hands for the good of those grasping for grace. This floodlight on goodness is a breath of fresh air.

There has been sadness and conflict. People in our circle of care have struggled—health challenges, complicated relational pain, job uncertainty, disappointments.

The media cycle has been loud, and reactions to sociopolitical events have been impossible to ignore. I’ve seen unbecoming behavior, and I’d guess you have, too. Friends, family members, and people we share community with have reached polar conclusions on current events. Navigating this while processing our own complex reactions can feel overwhelming.

I’m holding space for the idea that in an algorithm-driven stream of awareness, there is often little recognition that a well-considered differing viewpoint exists. The echo chamber reduces the ‘other’ to caricature and extremes.

Wisdom can come from anywhere, and I keep returning to a phrase I read in Ina Garten’s memoir. When she received harsh criticism for something she was proud of, instead of shutting down, getting defensive, or insulting her critic, she simply said,

“I need to see what you see.”

This has obvious applications when we receive critical feedback, but it may also be a message for the current moment. I’m challenging myself to truly consider the experiences, values, and circumstances that shape different perspectives on the world, on right and wrong. Can you think of a time you’ve done this, and been better for it?

If you find yourself mourning something others are celebrating, I hope you are graced with unexpected kindness. Consider sitting down with someone who sees things differently. Not to debate—just to have respectful dialogue. “I need to see what you see.” Ask them what they hope for and why. It’s an opportunity to bridge divides and fight for connection even in disagreement.

If you find yourself celebrating something others are mourning, consider buying someone with an opposing viewpoint a cup of coffee. Not to argue—just to understand. Look them in the eye. “I need to see what you see.” Ask them what they love and why. It’s an opportunity to be reminded of our shared humanity and expand our understanding.

Do you have a perspective you wish others could see? I hope you’ll share it.
Have you changed a previous assumption because of proximity to another human’s experience? I’d like to hear about it.
Did this post make you angry? Feel free to invite me out for coffee.