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When we become lost down the well of unhappiness, sadness, fear, or disconnection, it becomes impossible to see anything but the dark that has enveloped us. The story of one of the most famous photos ever taken gives us some clues about the way out.
On December 21, 1968, the crew of the Apollo 8, Frank Borman, James Lovell, and William Anders took off from Cape Canaveral on a mission to leave the Earth’s gravity well and be the first humans to orbit the moon. This mission would pave the way for an actual landing on the moon.
It took nearly three days to travel the nearly 240,000 miles to reach their destination. After the crew piloted the module into orbit around the moon, the astronauts observed the cold, grey, lifeless lunar surface. But it was on Christmas Eve, as they completed a fourth pass around, that they observed something no other human being had ever seen before. From over the moon’s horizon, a bright blue and cloud-swept orb appeared—the Earth rising. Anders excitedly loaded his camera with colour film and snapped one of the most famous photos ever taken, eventually called Earthrise.
The photo caused an international sensation when it came back down to Earth, and rightly so. It was the first time we, as a species, had seen such an image of our planet; it was an incredibly unique perspective. It captured what astronauts have now dubbed the overview effect of Earth: we could see this fragile, lonely planet, hovering in the darkness of space. With this perspective came the realisation of the frailty and preciousness of our biosphere.
Suddenly, through the international consciousness rippled an acute awareness that if it weren’t protected and nurtured, our home could be irrevocably damaged. This photo, and the perspective that came with it, was instrumental in breathing vital life into the burgeoning and nascent environmental movement (Robert Poole, 2008) that sought to protect our home and all that lived within it.
The ability to do what psychologists refer to as perspective-taking is incredibly helpful for all areas of human life; from the macro, like large-scale environmental changes, to the micro—for example, in our relationships, solving day-to-day problems, and being creative. It is also especially critical to use at those points when we are stuck in a deep well of unhappiness and can’t see a way out.
How do we learn this ability to radically shift our perspectives to free ourselves from the dark well of unhappiness? Sometimes it takes something radical, like a trip to the moon. Something like a major loss or a near-death experience. There are less dramatic ways, too—therapy being one of them.
In my work as a psychologist, these are the three key questions that I ask every client I see over the course of therapy. They are designed to help create the same shift in perspective taking that the "Earth Rising" photo did for humanity.
What does your pain say about what matters to you?
Imagine if the most painful, difficult, ugly, warts-and-all part of you was given permission to come quietly out into the open to speak freely. And imagine that of all things it spoke about, it chose to talk about the things you care about (because of course, it knows these deeply). Imagine it spoke with a tenderness, optimism, and yearning on these matters. What would it say you cared most about in life?
What do you need in life?
Imagine looking back with kindness and understanding to one of those points in your childhood when you were told that there was something not quite good enough about you. That there was something inadequate, or something that needed to change before you could fit it, belong, and feel safe. Ask yourself, what did I need at that point in life?
Now imagine yourself in your dark, painful well in the present, feeling in pain and unsure how to get out. Ask yourself, what do you need at this point in life?
Lastly, imagine yourself in the future at a point where you have moved through your pain. You are living a full rich life, and in your own humanity, you have found quiet, deep happiness. Ask yourself, what do you need at that point in life?
If you could choose, what direction would you head in life?
Imagine all the stuff inside you that you struggle with—pain, memories, critical self-stories—were bundled together and popped outside of you. See if you can picture it in a physical form, with a shape and colour. Now imagine it being much bigger than you, like the size of a house, and notice how it is to feel small. Without changing the size of the object, imagine yourself slowly growing bigger, to the point you can actually look down on this thing. What do you notice from here? What’s new that you can see? Can you imagine wrapping your arms around the object? Can you imagine picking it up and beginning to walk? What directions would you now head in life?
These questions can help us lean into a new perspective with those parts of ourselves that are difficult and painful. They are the parts that, truth be told, we’d rather weren’t there. But nonetheless, there they are.
Our choice is: Do we spend our lives wishing they’d go away? Or can we work to see a different perspective that allows us to acknowledge these parts, while at the same time, moving our feet in important life directions?
This post is formed from excerpts from my new book, The Mindfulness and Acceptance Workbook for Self Esteem; written with Richard Bennett and published by New Harbinger.
