I used to love to look at the world upside down. It was a frequent pastime of mine when I was still tiny, a favorite perspective remembered from nine months in the womb. I’d bend at the waist to peer backwards through my legs, or lie on the living room couch with my head dangling and look up at the ceiling, which suddenly was the floor. From that vantage point the doorways reminded me of submarine doorways with their raised thresholds. The house became my submarine to explore, and I’d envision myself walking across the ceiling and stepping over the high thresholds, out of the living room, down the hall, into the kitchen, marveling at all the objects in the house that now clung to the ceiling, defying gravity with no effort. Sometimes I’d envision seawater spilling over the thresholds and flooding my submarine, just because I could. No matter how the water churned and surged through the space, I never saw disaster. Nothing was damaged, I never drowned or got swept away. I was never frightened – only fascinated. My universe was a safe one.
When you shift your perspective, you shape your world.
Perspective is everything.