I discovered an amazing Facebook ap from Intel that almost instantly gathered my posts, likes, pictures, and friends into a collection called “The Museum of Me.”
Before the ap posted my museum “collection” as a photo album on my Facebook profile, it played an amazing movie of the information it collected about me.
By analyzing all my status updates and posts on others’ pages, the ap determines and then highlights “my word,” the one I use most frequently on Facebook. A profound or descriptive word? Not so much for a writer: my word was “day.” Three letters and pretty nondescript. Darn vanilla, if you ask me.
I gasped in surprise at the movie’s end when an aggregate of all my friends’ profile pictures transformed into one large collage before magically becoming a pixilated version of my profile picture.
After I watched the movie a second time, I asked myself: Is this really who I am? Do all these photos and “friends” really represent me? Or is it a very limited view?
Sometimes when we see our lives from a different point of view, we can begin to question the ordinary dailiness of the lives we often take for granted or fail to really notice because we’re too busy living them.
Occasionally viewing something from a distance provides a better perspective than an up-close lens. This beautiful video below arrived in my inbox today, providing an unusual look at the earth through astonishing and dramatic pictures from space. Soft, soothing music and commentary from a NASA scientist enhance the experience.
Some of the photography reminded me of what I’ve observed from those tiny little windows of an airplane and made me wish I could fly through space someday. I relaxed throughout the seven minutes of the video while I imagined myself floating, suspended in space.
From really high above, the earth is breathtakingly awe-inspiring: Bright aqua-blue oceans and shimmering sun glints. Snow-dusted mountains and volcanoes hiding underneath white blankets. The Great Salt Lake and its surprising two-toned color. Great rivers resembling brown earthworms twisting and bending as they carve through land.
Earth the Beautiful. No war. No hate. No suffering—although the image of Hurricane Florence hints of looming disaster. But seen from above, the eye of this storm and its swirling clouds astound rather than alarm.
When I see Earth from this different point of view, I think of Joan Chittister’s wise observation: “Finally, the sense of superiority that led us to attempt to conquer space—and so instead discover our smallness—has brought us the humility that can make us all better citizens of the Earth” So I ask, What am I doing to contribute to and protect its beauty?
Then I wonder, What I am doing to matter while I’m here?
I realize that I am as insignificant as a single grain of sand. Yet millions of grains of red sand on an African desert combine into a stunning picture when seen from space. My responsibility is to be as significantly insignificant as I am able. To meaningfully fill my grain-of-sand speck of space here on Earth. I’m unlikely to fill the space in any real museum—only Intel’s Facebook version of one, but I will do my best to intentionally live my life on purpose and in gratitude.
What does it take to see our lives with a different perspective? According to Socrates, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Yet the fast pace of our days isn’t conducive to such examination. A “trip” to outer space or even a weekend visit to another city may provide perspective; however, the simple act of setting aside a daily period of silence—even for ten minutes a day unplugged from all electronics—will provide the perfect place to notice unexpressed thoughts and question priorities.
Journaling provides another place for self-examination and reflection. As I open my journal pages each morning, I seem to spend a lot of time asking myself questions. Sometimes I have to repeat the questions many times before an answer appears. They’re tough questions like: What’s important to me and what’s not? What do I really really really want? How am I supposed to be spending my time— today, next week, next year?
As Annie Dillard wisely observes, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”
I invite you now to spend seven minutes of your day seeing our world from a unique perspective. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the view!
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For the past two summers, I’ve made collages of Me. I then attach them to note cards and send them to friends when I’m away writing. The images represent where I’m at in the current season of my life and I enjoy doing them. I use a combination of words and images. Last year I had a real hodge-podge of images, this year I was decidedly more focused (as you’ll see Diane when your card arrives).
It’s easy to think we’re same old-same old (or vanilla) but our hues change with the seasons of life. Great post!
What a wonderful idea, Dawn! No doubt you do this on your trusty Mac, which you so rightly encouraged me to acquire.
I believe that as we age, self-reflection is the key to keeping ourselves on track. Even if you don’t send this collage to anyone, it’s a great way to spotlight our life canvas and our current “hues.” I know women don’t give ourselves enough credit! This is why at the end of each year, I encourage my writers to make a list of the past year’s accomplishments–before they even think about determining goals for the new year.
Thanks for sharing another fabulous idea to celebrate yourself!
So pleased to run across your site while researching an article for my own. My sister will be moving to Phoenix next year. Perhaps our paths will cross! In the meantime, I’ve subscribed to your newsletter. Look forward to reading more…
Thanks, Elle! Yes, please tell your sister about my Phoenix Wise Women Write groups. Love your “later bloomer” title. I’ll check out your website since I’m definitely a late bloomer.