Perspective.

It’s a loaded word.

You just drop it there and it means everything.

I just did a search on my blog for the word “perspective” and gobs of posts filtered up because they featured the word.

It’s a biggie.

I’m always grappling with it, embracing it, dancing around with it, trying to see it with new eyes.

It means everything and determines so much.

Remember a few weeks back we had some friends in town for an annual apple picking weekend?

There we all were.

Picnic table.  BBQ.  Autumn breeze.  Autumn smells.  Autumn life.

I glanced over and saw three cell phones.  Hashtag conversations.

And I sighed my ridiculous probably-all-too-familiar-to-my-husband sigh and said,

“About once every week I have this burning desire to move to the middle of nowhere and get off the grid completely.”

(Whatever that means as I have no real concept of how “the grid” actually interweaves my life with others.)

And our friend Tyler laughed.

A bursting, touch of disbelief, laugh.

He called his wife’s name,

“Amy – come listen to this.”

And that was certainly not the first time that someone has called a loved one over to repeat something ludicrous that has flopped out of my mouth.

“She said she wants to move to the middle of nowhere,” he told his wife.

And she laughed too.

A shared, yes we know this is funny to us, kind of laugh.

“All the way on the drive up here, we kept saying to one another – isn’t it nice to get away for a weekend and go to the middle of nowhere?” they said.

It is funny.

How the very thing you have within your grasp looks different to you than to someone not actually holding it.