There’s a trend among photographers and creatives on social media: the “what I saw vs. what I shot” posts. They show a full-frame image—whether it’s sports, shopping centers, people in action—and then reveal the final shot, which often zooms in on just one element: a single person, a door, or a detail that gets lost in the surrounding chaos.
This practice highlights not only the artistic vision behind the shot but also the power in what we choose to see.
It’s easy to get lost in the whole-ness of things. Trying to take every piece of data, react to every breaking news story, say yes to every invitation, or simply get lost in a spiral of thoughts and what-ifs. All of these moments involve what could be without appreciating what is.
For the past year, I’ve been fighting with myself to be present during a major shift in my life that involves changing what I see and how I react to it.
Forward momentum and recollections
I left the life I knew for eight years abroad and started fresh back in the United States - a somewhat blank slate but with vastly more challenges than I anticipated.
It’s easy to get caught up in zooming into the intensity of each moment: every job rejection, each familial challenge, every existential question, all while grieving the life I once had.
All of this makes me ask: Did I (really) trade THAT for THIS?
But that question has layers. Like Mike Myers’s famous emphasis on the syllable explanation, the meaning depends on how you say it, how you feel it.
Right now, THAT feels like the Dubai life—ease, friends, a vibrant community that’s connected regardless of backgrounds, always up for an adventure, eager to travel, craving new memories.
And THIS in the US feels heavy-fraught with questions, insecurity, and a contemplative heaviness. I’m surrounded by a smaller circle of people who see me and listen (for which I am forever grateful), but can’t fully grasp the life I had or the life I left behind.
What I saw vs. what I got while planning this move ended up much different than I anticipated. I zoomed-out a bit too much, and am now caught in the middle of a rollercoaster of adjustments.
These are the moments when the self-help and personal development work should, in theory, start ‘working.’ The sadness, uncertainty, withering or shifting expectations- are where the work really shows up.
I remind myself logically that these feelings are part of building a strong foundation for what’s next.
While life’s hardships can feel overwhelming, something wonderful is happening beneath the surface, even if we can’t see it right now.
I will be the first to admit that this is much easier said than done. There are tear-drenched pages of my journal where I’m essentially YELLING this to myself while also feeling so much; trying to move through these moments with grace.
But this is still an opportunity- an excuse to connect with yourself and your surroundings to embrace any and all imperfect glory. If we see ourselves as works in progress, every bump in the road feels more like a necessary obstacle rather than a setback.
Those speed bumps in the middle of a straightaway? They exist to force us to slow down.
It’s taken me time to realize that this is the whole point. It feels like this ‘break’ has been long enough, but I’m trying to lean into this moment to slow down and notice.
The lightness I feel now, despite everything, reassures me that we can experience so much while moving toward a new chapter. It’s about giving yourself permission to breathe and noticing the beauty around you- the beauty of your life, in this very moment.
Connecting to Nature
The sun rises and sets faithfully every day. Each morning and evening reminds us of the possibility of a fresh start - another chance to begin anew, even if just for a little while.
Instead of fighting the rejection or detachment I sometimes feel from my new reality, I’ve begun to focus more on the beauty that persists despite struggles.
Storms may tear trees apart, branches may fall, floods may damage, but the sun still rises again.
Despite destruction, there is always beauty, and every day presents an opportunity to rebuild.
Though I am still adjusting to this new season, there’s a beauty in that, too. Whether I zoom out to see the bigger picture or focus closely on the present, there’s something valuable to be seen and felt.
Yes, there will always be suffering, injustice, questions, and struggles. The voices of despair are loud (and at times, deafening). But if we listen closely, we can also hear the rustling leaves of ancient trees, the songs of birds, friends catching up over coffee, or the gentle tapping of keys as someone writes for their (silly) little website.
Each moment holds a whisper of hope - that something good, maybe even magical, could happen next.
For me, this is a reminder: I am in control of what I choose to see. And even if my vision is blurry or scary sometimes, it’s also a testament that I’m still here- trying to make sense of it all.
A reminder that no matter how scary, exhilarating, or challenging this moment may be, it is still just a dot in the not-so-straightforward line of your life that connects to what is next.
We’re all just figuring things out; we might as well build something beautiful along the way.