The point that got away (.

) A handbook on perspective

Precursor (.) A drop of rain

In order to prepare ourselves for the ideatic journey ahead of us, I have chosen an exercise in
visualization which, in my humble opinion, makes use of two of our most powerful weapons in the
conception of perspective design presented in this handbook. One of these chosen instruments
which might be called upon in this introductory lesson is sound. The other is joy. Naturally, a
musically-inclined individual might say that the two are interchangeable, or at least interwoven.
However, since anyone could imagine sound which is unpleasant or unbearable, and joy as an entity
in its own right, devoid of any other qualities, let us suppose that they are, in fact, two separate
objects. As for the reasoning behind the selection of said two objects, we might say that sound is
being granted a place thanks to its abstract immateriality, which we will be drawing upon later in
the exercise, while joy has the merit of standing immutable as the be-all and end-all of human
perspective's endpoint.

Thus, let us for a moment make-believe how pure bliss might sound like. Even though you could
consider that the sound cue is different for you than it is for me, you will notice that a great deal of
similarities appear and resurface in the different imagination instances which come up while
performing this exercise. While we might dive deeper into why water is, indeed, the main character
of this exercise's story, the larger pay-off lies in actually allowing imagination to flow, much in the
same way as a river weaves along, or perhaps as rain tumbles down, or maybe even as a single drop
of dew finds its way down from the leaf into the shallow depths of the pond.

After allowing your imagination a couple of minutes to relax into the internally generated sounds of
pure bliss, the time then comes to conceptualize what has been felt and why. You could consider the
following statement as both a summary of these writings, as well as the settler for its title, such as I
do, or you could enjoy it at face value, and maybe base on it your decision whether continuing to
read through the handbook is worth your while or not. As such, I consider the different states of
sound for flowing water to be generative of blissful states in the human psyche first and foremost
because of the way they manage to expand the fleeting moment into a large array of present
potentialities, while clustering them, at the same while, back into a fine point of the actual trickling
of time. For clarification, the apparent conflict of terms can be dispelled by way of analyzing the
form of the sonata in music, which I consider to have been used by the great composers towards
trying to capture and unfurl this paradox in a way that is not only comprehensible, but intuitively so.

To further our exercise using the same concept from a different standpoint, let us entertain another
natural element in the following situation: a concentrated beam of light passing through a sort of
double prism structure, which generates an expanded, rainbow form of it inside, while keeping the
light condensed at the entry- and end- points. The beam of light is used as an analog for the stream
of consciousness, in the way it is capable of achieving a sharp point prior to and post entering the
prism structure, which we would think of as the human brain and the attachment it brings along
with it. It is worth noting that I consider the rainbow in this case to be a distraction from the blissful
sound of rain, but that I also admit to its necessity in order to draw the two points as close to each
other as possible, lest they become one. We would normally call this process self-actualization. This
is not to say that the 'rainbow' ever disappears fully, but that one can become capable of
dissimulating its existence, so that the prism structure might become transparent of the concentrated
light beam, thus allowing the present moment to manifest.

About: I have structured this handbook much in the same way a rather simple but joyous day would
unfold, in which activities pertaining to the grind of survival are not present. In this way, I figure we
could explore ourselves in a conceptual playground devoid of daily distractions, so that we might
have the chance to internalize the ideas presented. Still, the nature of said concepts should allow
integration in a live environment, provided that they are practiced beforehand.

Thesis (.) A walk in the park

Waking up is perhaps the most difficult part of the day, for most days. But even so, sometimes the
Universe shines its unwavering smile upon us in a way that we can, in all of our preocuppied nature,
take in. Supposing we have just gotten out of our dream world and subsequently landed into hard
reality, let us shift our program away from the usual, almost casual coffee and maybe a cigarette or
two, as well as shifting through a bunch of e-mails or writing up the target list of assignments for
the day, towards putting on that distressed AC/DC T-shirt and flower-patterned leggings which we
never get to wearing anymore and roll out for a stroll.

Maybe this is the usual way a new-age self-help book might start. But just consider for a moment
the importance of paradigm generation for each day that comes anew. You might think that starting
with the beginning is common sense, but I can't stress enough the part that our brains tend to cancel
out the most. It is not starting that is problematic, but rather, starting in the right way, for we might
compare the morning to a seed, the evening to a sapling, and our lives to a fully-fledged field of
blossoming flowers. By instituting the human element in the natural equation, we see that taking
care of a plant requires discipline, by watering it daily, making sure it is exposed to just the right
amount of sunlight and providing the soil with all the right nutrients. Imagine for a moment you
have missed a day in taking care of your plant. It might be strong enough to survive a one-time
offence, but what about two, or maybe even three in a row? Before the week is gone, you might
start to see it wither and even die. Surely, the human body and mind are a lot stronger than that, but
for the purpose of our demarche, I strongly recommend taking care of ourselves as we would our
flowers. Given that perspective is the subject of this handbook, the first practical exercise would be
acquiring a plant solely for the purpose of likening ourselves to it, and reminding ourselves that we
are both the flowers and the gardener that waters them, and if we don't take care of ourselves, there
is small likelihood that anyone else will.

Now that we have fulfilled our duty to nature by watering the flower, both literally and figuratively,
we are ready for the main quest: walking through the park. In much the same way as before, the
purpose of this activity will be developing our perspective. To come back full circle to the concept
presented at the beginning of the current subject, since I find that starting in the right way is crucial
to every activity, we will take great care of the way we are to think about the beginning of our little
walk in the park. This will be in the form of a quite simple requirement: to think and experience
every step taken, considering it as a non-opposing alternative to mindful breathing. Then, and only
then, can we really start experiencing the world around us. Ever-so-slowly, along with the
possibility of returning back to the center of step-taking, we can start expanding our awareness. To
be fair, I find that even after consistent sessions of meditation, I am still not able to completely
suppress the trickling of thoughts, and maybe this is not meant to ever happen. Rather, what I have
found to work is experiencing every object subjected to my awareness along with the thoughts that
come with it, without getting attached to either the viewed object or the thoughts that my mind
produces in relation to it. The key here is to yield to reality, and if living years on end of social and
cultural conditioning means that regarding the sky will generate in my mind at least the word 'blue'
and maybe 'clouds' as well, I will allow myself to view the sky concurrent with said words and not
judge myself for it.

Going along for the ride, one step at a time, while gradually increasing my perception of reality,
being able to always come back to putting a foot in front of the other, could be viewed in one way
along the lines of an infant drawing circles around her mother, having the option to return to her if
the circles become too large to be comfortable. If I am able to keep up the exercise, I soon discover
time and time again that there is some sort of cosmic rhythm to the whole process, wherein the
binary cycle of my steps becomes more complex, with the addition of maybe a dog barking, birds
chirping, clouds slowly shape-shifting, leaves rippling, and so on. This is about the point where
thoughts subside and make way for truly living. Thus, the entrance in and emergence out from the
prism structure become one.

Antithesis (.) Gone fishing

Now that we have established a little bit of movement, by way of rhythm, it is time to analyze the
possibility of expression for the cycle of life in non-actionable states. The most suitable real life
example I have encountered so far has been fishing, although the perspective paradigm shift I will
be presenting can be as easily applied to waiting for an appointment, waiting in line or even waiting
in traffic. Let us then transpose ourselves into the situation.

Imagine you have been waiting for the fish to bite for quite a while now. The restlessness is forever
growing, as are the itchy spots increasing all over your body, so much so that you start questioning
whether holding the fishing rod is truly something worth your while. You manage to hold on to the
thought that you might actually catch something, if only because of the time and energy you have
invested up until now. You then think to yourself that it used to be people had to go through this,
maybe even daily, just to survive, and so you hold out a bit longer. You even consider all the
lectures on the virtues of patience you received as time passed by, ever since you were little.
Nothing seems to soothe your discomfort, until one magical moment. Time seems to stop, and it
strikes you: you're here. It's not even that you're thinking this in words, but rather a sensation of
being fully immersed into the present moment. The mind quiets and lends way to the full input from
the outer world. How did this happen? Did you have anything to do with it? If so, could you do it
again? Consistently, even? Unfortunately, you snap out of it, and you're back to square one, maybe
even more discontent than before, much like Adam and Eve after tasting the forbidden fruit from
the Tree of Knowledge. Unless something bites in the ensuing couple of minutes, you're willing to
call it a day.

What I have found to work in any situation that requires patience is, quite simply, waiting it out.
The moment might come in which the brain finally gives in and returns to some long-forgotten
vestigial pattern in which waiting feels good, but I don't count on it. Instead, I exercise getting
comfortable with the sensation of restlessness and considering waiting a part of life. This is
precisely the point where the magic happens. It is akin to instances where losing all hope generates
the solution to some problem, which could not be solved until that very moment. Maybe it has to do
with the way the Universe likes to manifest itself, or maybe it is just some chemical reaction up in
the brain. I'm not educated enough to know the inner workings of either the brain or of the
Universe, but I have enough self-generated evidence to believe in this concept so much so that I
would present it to you and advise you to try it out and see for yourself whether it is true or not.

To put it more broadly, this concept is similar to that of offering something while expecting nothing
in return. Of course you could negotiate towards receiving the highest amount you can get, and it
would be only human to do so, but I have found that this limits the value I tend to offer to the
amount which I receive in return. On the other hand, when I do offer value and expect nothing in
return, I am able to fully concentrate on the activity and, even though the flow-state I get from it is
more than enough payment, I also receive some material form of gratitude which is greater than I
would have received had I negotiated for it in the first place. This doesn't always happen, to be sure,
although I have found it to be worth my while to do so more often than not, and I'm only discussing
the similarities with getting comfortable about the restlessness of waiting without having the
assurance of getting immersed into the present moment. To expand this concept using the
framework of the prism structure, you would have to accept the 'rainbow' at its largest spectrum
before being able to arrive at one of the points in which the beam of light is once again condensed.
You don't have the certainty that acceptance it will bring you back to center, but it beats dwelling in
uncertainty and hoping for something that is not there in reality, in the present moment.

Be mindful that you could apply this paradigm to other areas of your life as well, particularly those
in which you feel you don't get the recognition you deserve from the Universe.

Synthesis (.) Evening crickets

For the magician's final perspective act, I have chosen two activities that everybody has done at
least once during their lifetime, and it is pretty likely that they would do them again. I'm talking, of
course, about drawing and listening to crickets. Maybe you haven't done them at the same time, but
lets pretend to actualize this act together right now.

This time around, we will be breathing into the intimate symphony performed by the crickets at
once with the pencil strokes taken on the piece of paper. The point we are trying to make is finding
the balance between the frameable, binary rhythm of our breath, the cyclic, albeit organic nature of
crickets' chirping and finally the abstract undertones of our drawing instrument.

By performing this improvisatory act, you might begin to notice similarities with the feelings
encountered during the first two trials. In much the same way we had taken one step at a time
during the walk in the park while constantly keeping aware of our perception, we now have the
pencil as our trustworthy little handle on reality, to which we can always return our awareness.
Since this is a semi-static activity, there might also be some restlessness involved, which we can
tackle the same way as we did when we went fishing.

We will maybe feel during this exercise that being aware of all these different nuances at once is
somewhat difficult, as the mind races between one point of perspective to another. Surely,
synthesizing the first two exercises is no easy task, but I would encourage you to stick to doing the
drawing, active listening and breathing without judging yourself if the main focus of your
perspective is on either one of them and you feel as though you can't find the way they flow from
one to another.

Afterword (.) Another day

The day off from our usual point of view might have offered us a bit of insight into the mindful
approach of perspective, even if all we ever did was get a plant, go for a walk, test our patience and
draw for a bit. Though keep in mind that it might as well had all been for naught if you don't 'water'
yourself daily. This is not to say that we can afford to not go through the daily grind of survival.
Rather, it is finding creative ways of applying to reality what has so far been experienced,
such as reframing every instance of life into one of the three ways presented in this handbook, or
maybe creating your own perspective exercises and diagrams to best suit your needs.

Since you have come this far, it is worth it to just remind yourself that you are, indeed, here.