All the things I cannot see

If Henrietta understood the game of Hide and Seek, I’d say she found a great hiding spot, wouldn’t you?

I have no idea why Henri plopped herself under the rocker giving me a photo op, but I suspect the action had more to do with shade and curiosity about the rocker than it did with Hide and Seek. Isn’t it interesting how I apply my understanding of the world, to what might, or might not, be firing in Henri’s mind?

Our experience might be similar, but our interpretation is world’s apart.

This morning Henrietta and I were heading down the driveway, me still in my pajamas with a sweatshirt thrown over the top. I was thinking about the appropriateness of strolling the neighborhood in nightwear when Sandhill’s bugled their morning racket somewhere in the neighborhood. If you’ve never heard the crane’s song, the sound might give you pause. You might plop your hinder down on the asphalt just to listen. What’s that?!

Four paws, gave pause, trying to sort out how the clamor fit into her world.

I scratched pup’s ears and snout, and said—It’s okay…just the Sandhills talking—my attempt to communicate there was nothing to fear.

Watching Henri reminds me that we all filter experience through a different lens. Our lens changes with every new idea or experience we allow inside.

When communicating with others, do you consider their experience has not been the same as yours?

Why, or why not?