One thing I need to do more often is to look at things in different ways. So, I put together an exercise for myself on the farm. Why? Because I believe that if I practice changing my point of view with little things, I will have an easier time exercising it on bigger things.
Our turkeys, on the other hand, saw this area very differently than I do. They made a mass break-out from their pasture a week or so ago. We found a fraction of them just outside the fence and as close to the door to their room as they could get. But, we could not find the rest. We hunted around the pasture, we checked the nearby hen pasture and we were looking any number of places. We could not find them.
It turns out we walked past them more than once. They found this area (and the pieces of cement to the left) and decided that it was worthy of a great deal of attention. They had decided to roost there for the night. Since it was dark, we might be forgiven for not seeing them right away. But, the truth is, we weren't even thinking about looking there. Happily, Tammy's brain must have taken note of something different and she decided to look more carefully after getting that little nudge. What happens if she is never willing to consider a different perspective?
Now that we found them there, we see a good deal to recommend this area to the turkeys. It has some nice perching areas for roosting. It has a little shelter, some taller grasses to forage in AND it was near the flock of henlets. In their turkey brains, this was a good place to be if you are unable to find your way back to your room.
I guess this brought about two thoughts:
1. Looking at things from a different point of view can be exciting and frightening, so it often helps to have some grounding to survive the experience.
2. Are humans no better than our turkeys that never leave their fenced in pasture? Seeing everything from only that perspective and no other?
Is it possible that there are many people with whom we have strong disagreement who are really only a step to one side or the other of where we are looking? Are we really so blind as to be unable to turn our head ever so slightly to see what others are seeing so we can find ways to work together? It certainly seems as if we are.
When you look at this picture it almost seems like you are in a different world. Yet, you can see it from pretty much the same place. Have you ever wondered why someone you grew up with - perhaps a family member or childhood friend - doesn't see what you see?
What is it you are missing and can you possibly predict what it could be?
And now I present the ultimate absurdity. What if you and I stood next to each other and you looked at the building and henlets (#5) and I looked at the compost piles, trees and corn (#6). I proclaim that composting is the answer and you counter with raising chickens as the answer. Then, we start calling each other names. You are an idiot and a $%*#@$% because you can't see the wonderful compost right here. I am an imbecile and a #@$%*#$% because I can't see all of the chicken manure we can use. Neither of us turns to look. We just get more and more rude. More and more angry. And we build the walls thicker in our vision limiting tunnels. Knowledge of our blindspots fade from our awareness. And we get nowhere together. Fast.