I used to love to look at the world upside down! It was a frequent pastime of mine from when I was still tiny, surely a favorite sensation remembered from spending nine months inside the womb. I’d bend at the waist to peer backwards through my legs, or lie on my back on the living room sofa, dangle my head down the front, and look up at the ceiling, which suddenly was the floor. From that vantage point the doorways reminded me of submarine doorways with their raised thresholds. The house became my submarine to explore, and I’d envision myself walking across the ceiling and stepping over each threshold, out of the living room, down the hall, into the kitchen, marveling at all the objects in the house that from this vantage point now clung to the ceiling, effortlessly defying gravity, and how the ground was now so clear of obstacles. Sometimes – just because I could – I’d envision seawater spilling over the thresholds and flooding my submarine. No matter how the water surged and churned through the space, I never saw disaster. Nothing was damaged, I never drowned or got swept away. I was never frightened, only fascinated to see I could turn my world on its head and things would be fine. The world I designed for myself was a safe one.
When you open your perspective, you change your world.