I agree with the idea that nothing is ever exactly the same. Even more, I agree with the opinion that says no two people are exactly the same. I agree that each person has their own way of seeing things, and each person has their own DNA, their own feelings, biases, experiences, and that we all can come from the same places and see the same things, yet we can leave with different interpretations. We can come up with different opinions, and we can witness the same thing or that we can be given the same instructions, yet we can still come to different conclusions.
There is a paper-folding exercise that I do when I start my presentations. I love this trick. This proves we all internalize information differently.
The trick is simple.
I instruct everyone in the room to close their eyes and, by the way, this is the toughest part of the trick because people cheat.
I instruct the people in the room to fold the paper in half, tear off a piece of the top right hand corner, and then fold the paper in half again. Next, they tear off the opposite, lower left hand corner. I do this oppositely, until all four corners are torn off and the page is folded up four times.
No one was given special preparation or directions.
Everyone was told the same thing and had the same privilege to information.
And here’s the “proof” part.
Everyone in the room was given the same sheet of paper, and everyone was given the same directions, but everyone has their own page and everyone page looks different from anyone else’s in the room.
This is a great way to show that we all think, see, and interpret information in our own way.
I often give this exercise to leaders for them to understand their teams might not see, think, or understand things the same way as them.
I think about this a lot.
I think about this when people say things like, “I’ve been there before,” or how people say, “I went through the same thing,” and then I think to myself — no, you haven’t.
We don’t think, see or feel the same way. We don’t experience life or touch the same.
We do not have the same intuition, and our experiences lead us to different conclusions. We all have our own perception. Often, I submit that we have all been fooled by the deception of our perception.
The mind is an incredible thing. I do not say I am right or wrong with this. However, I can see how experience has shown and proved that we are all different. I have no way of knowing what the color blue looks like to you or what red looks like. I only know that we were given the same directions and instructions, but I came up with what I saw and you came up with what you see.
I know that we have fallen prey to the black and white ideas of right and wrong. Sometimes, yes, there is right and wrong, but at the same time, I often question the ideas of right and wrong; that is, of course, I say this when we are speaking within a realistic spectrum. Then again, being realistic to me might be unreal to you or to someone else.
I don’t know what the right thing to say is. I know that I can speak from my heart and I know that my intention might be pure and loving. At the same time, my intention might not always match interpretation, and also — to put this clearly – just because I have a need to convey information or tell someone something, no matter how loving or heartfelt,I have to remember that this doesn’t mean they’ll understand or need or want to hear it.
I often forget this.
However, and more importantly, I suppose this is why I find it safest to come here and write my thoughts down. To add to this, I come here so that I can open myself up differently. While I agree that the written word is subject to interpretation, I do not imagine myself here with anyone else, except for you.
At least here, or in my head, you and I are sitting together, quietly and peacefully, like two kids watching the sun come up with nothing to say because the sky is beautiful, the sunrise is amazing to us, and all the rest of the bullshit and the upcoming drama is going to be enough for later on.
But for now, I’ll see what beauty looks like to me and you will see what beauty looks like to you. Whether we share the same opinions or feelings or not, at least I can say that I shared myself with you.
I can say that I shared this moment with you, —and because of this, my day is going to be a little better because I started this day by sharing a piece of me with you.
You are someone who I love, someone who I care for, and someone who has changed my life, just because you are you and I am me.
Somehow, out of the billions of people who exist in this world, I can say that I am one of the lucky ones who gets to know you, more than just an average person.
And me?
I don’t ever want to be average. Not to me. Not to you.
Not to the world or to anyone.
I don’t want to be average or plain, boring, uninteresting, or even worse; the last thing I ever want to be is unnoticeable. However, in my fear or insecurity that you might not see me in the light I would choose, I overextend myself because out of anyone else in this world, or more to it, since you are so extraordinary to me, and so beautiful, and amazing, I suppose my fear is that I might appear plain to you, or otherwise forgettable—or worse, regrettable.
I don’t want to be either.
I am a child in many ways.
I am a grown man.
I am honest. I am imperfect,
but no matter what—
I am here.
No matter where my body goes, this is where my heart is.
I don’t know what this means to you . . .
. . . but I know exactly what this means to me.
Forever ~
The Written Addiction 