The Art of POV's

"All the world's a stage,

And all men and women merely players."

~William Shakespeare

There is something humbling about perspective...

To wake up each day seeing the world from only one pair of eyes, knowing that your view is merely the whole truth. A seat in the audience. A mark on the stage.

Perspective is the art of standing till while the world performs around you. Every person you pass is carrying a story that does not pause when you look away. From arguments in kitchens, you will never enter to laughter spilling through rooms you will never sit in, many lives are unfolding in real time. We move through it like witnesses, never fully aware of what happens beyond our line of sight.

That is the beauty of PoV.

It is a constant reminder that reality is plural.

What feels like a tragedy from one angle may happen to be a survival for another. What you call an ending could be the exact moment someone else calls freedom. The world is not made up of one narrative, even if it feels like you are the main character of your story, but of overlapping monologues, some spoken and most internal.

Shakespeare was right actually when he said the world is a stage. But what he didn't emphasize enough is that no two players experience the play in the same way.

We enter scenes at different times. We inherit different scripts. Some of us improvise, some memorize lines. Some perform under bright lights; others act in shadows, unseen yet just as real. And still, the play goes on.

Perspective teaches empathy without demanding understanding.

You don't need to fully know someone's story to respect that it exists. You don't need to carry every burden to acknowledge its weight. PoV is the quiet agreement that your experience is valid, but not exclusive.

There is also something freeing in this truth.

Your worst day is not the world's conclusion. Your embarrassment is not the audience's memory. Your mistakes are not in the final act. Somewhere else, someone is falling in love. Somewhere else, someone is starting over. Somewhere else, someone is learning how to breathe again.

And you are allowed to be both insignificant and sacred at the same time.

The art of PoV is learning how to stand in your small corner of the stage without shrinking, and without assuming the spotlight belongs only to you. It is recognizing that the universe does not revolve around your pain, but it also does not dismiss it.

Perspective does not minimize your story but places it among many.