Week 28: Perspective that changes you
Updated: Jul 21
Perspective is something we cannot anticipate. We hear it all of the time—have some perspective. In my line of work, perspective is key because while I have a common goal for each student, the reality of their living conditions, mental health conditions, socio-economic conditions, etc. is that doing school and meeting these goals means navigating so many different things that I will never truly understand.
I think that’s the thing about perspective. We do our best. We see the world and, if we’re trying to be better people, we genuinely try to see that world in a light that is different than our normal one. Maybe even a little uncomfortable, because while having perspective is key, it can also show us things about ourselves that maybe we’re not keen on acknowledging.
I am late again with my post. And it’s because I took week 28 as a time to be with my family. Not my triangle of Liv and Old Man River–or not just—but my entire family. If you know me, you know this is something I rarely do. God, I love them all, but the noise we can create…it’s chaos in its purest form. Also, we’re a demanding bunch of assholes who all want what we want when we want it…so making decisions is suuuper fun:)
But this time, my perspective was different…honestly, I thought about scrapping the rest of my blogs for the year because anything I have to experience or say feels trivial, silly, even, when Blakely Grace is still fighting in a way that no seven-year-old should have to. And it is a little trivial, because not all of life is extreme. Most of life, if we’re lucky, is just living. It’s moving from one place to the next, one experience to the next. It’s living in a tent and seeing elk in the morning, begging your husband to make a fire because fuck does Montana get cold at night. And it’s watching your daughter tell you repeatedly that she does not get tired in the middle of the day, when your entire family can tell she is .5 away from falling face down in her pizza.
And it’s thinking of your friend nonstop. It’s thinking of the little girl you love like your own, and praying to any deity or goddess or moon or star that her life comes back to her—and hoping those good thoughts impact the universe. It’s seeing her face, her recovery, in everything you do, and even though that’s never the perspective you wanted, you have it. And so you hug everyone tighter, and when you throw a rock into the river, you pray for Blakely. When you see a gathering of eagles over the Snake, you think of Blakely.
And when you’ve had so much freaking family time, and you hear the man in Yellowstone say to his kids, “I don’t care. I. Do. Not. Care.”, and you think, You and me both, buddy, you think of Blakely’s mama, of her daddy and aunties and grandparents, and you think of how they can’t wait to be able to argue with her again, or hear her little voice say something ridiculous, or her little face dawn that sassy frown that tells you you’re an idiot without actually telling you you’re an idiot.
And then you argue with your kid, knowing that she’ll stomp off and it will all be okay.
My perspective has changed. Blakely, it’s yet another thing you’ve given me: patience, and the understanding that we embrace the mundane, difficult, ridiculous parts of life, so when the unexpected and truly awful happens, we have the foundation to move forward.
We have to keep living, even when our hearts are breaking because we're helpless to help, to change what has been done. But we can be conscious of how we are living, of who we are thinking of and what love and kindness and understanding we put into the universe.
I am late with week 28--eventually, I’ll be here with week 29. Until then, #BGStrong.
Hug your family, and live in the mundane and the exciting with equal fervor.