Perspective tells a lot about how one person would react to a situation or an object. A man may loose something, say a blender. He may cry over the loss of his beloved blender, while we would just shrug off his loss. We do not see that the blender may be an heirloom from an ancient relative or a memento from a dear friend. Our differences in perspective allows us to react and tell if the elephant is like a snake, a tree trunk or a short rope.
Such is perspective.
There was once a sculptor in a small town. He was not the best of the best but he was passionate enough with his craft. Being a poor sculptor, he creates his craft from memory. He could not afford to pay any models or travel to any grand scenic place and find a tantalizing subject. He just uses his imagination for every craft. He could not even afford to buy the best medium money could buy. He just uses what is available in the woods nearby or from the reused materials that his neighbors throw out. He did not even go to the best art school. He just watched someone and learned the basics and sometimes had to improvise on his own. He was just a man of passion and talent.
One day, he set out to carve and create a piece of art. He placed his heart and soul on his work. He wanted to make someone smile with his creation. He wanted to inspire someone with one of his carvings. He wanted to somehow sell his creation. They are, after all, his life work. His heart and soul poured out into a piece of wood.
He got a block of wood. He carved and chiseled until his hands were numb and calloused. He grinded and pounded until his arms hurt. He scratched and shaved until sweat formed on his brow. He polished and painted until the floor were a mixture of wood filings, and paint drops. He carved and chiseled until he was out of breath and drained of strength.
When he was done, he was proud of his work. He loved looking at it and was satisfied with his creation. He knew that this would one day be seen and be sold by someone looking for an inspiration. He prayed that oneday someone would come in his humble shop and pick up his creation.
That day came unexpectedly. Or so he thought.
A car parked in front of his house. The sculptor was giddy with excitement. Finally someone was going to inspect his work. Someone was going to see his heart and soul instilled in what was once a block of wood.
Out came two well dressed man. Both were wearing a suit and tie. Obviously from the big city.
The first man stepped inside the sculptor’s house and looked around. There he saw the wooden carving. He held it and inspected each corner. He placed his fingers around following the curves. He smelled it and smiled. Here was a connosieur. A man who knows how much effort the sculptor poured into it.
Promptly, the connosieur went out and delightedly brought the other man in to see the carving. This was obviously was a rich man. He looked around with disgust. Still, the rich man held the carving on his hand. He looked at it and frowned. He was not happy.
“This is ugly.” And the rich man dropped the carving.
Most of us can just imagine the frustration in the sculptor. Sometimes we pour our heart and soul in an effort, in a project, or in a program. We are proud. We are happy. We are satisfied. Other people who may have witnessed our efforts and have seen our results may praise us. Yet there exists certain people who have not seen, heard or experienced anything that we have, thus they do not see the value in what we do.
We need to reconcile and coexist with such people.
Reacting is also a matter of perspective.