To Whom It May Concern

     Dear Perspective, 

     I watch as you change before my eyes the extent of my life into lessons and learnings, as you shift my experiences of both privilege and adversity into a map by which I use to take my next step, and as you reveal to me life upon life that is diverse from my own. Without you, ignorance would be a frequent visitor of mine.

     It would walk into my house uninvited. I’d offer it a cup of coffee and we’d waste our days away talking in circles about nothing but our own affairs. But with you, a soft knock at the door and I come running, swept out of my familiarity and onto my feet. I am urged to explore and look into not only faces of passerby’s, but also the mirror that hangs on my wall.

     As a young girl, carefully stepping across stones as to avoid water or mud touching my clean skin, I did not understand the beauty of you, dear perspective. It was not until I slipped into the mess, or noticed another losing their way across the clean stone path, that I realized dirt on my skin was more beautiful than without it. I was freed to run my hands and feet across the rocky ground, to lay in a dewy meadow and feel the ticklish blades of grass, to climb a sappy tree and look down at the ever-changing world.

     I look for you now as I work to treat those I encounter in my life (all with their own maps, visitors, and stepping stones) with an understanding that each has their own story. I look for you in my memories, using you to show me their lessons. I look for you to help me take those experiences and always step forward, not back. But most of all, I look for you to be waiting outside of my door each morning, ready to grab my hand and lead me to approach the day with nothing but an open mind.