We See What We Look For

Mushroom hiding in plain sight.

The world is overflowing with so much of… everything. Clothes, food, entertainment, people, opinions, pumpkin spice…

You see these things, other people buying them, or an amazing sale and you think you need them. But it’s not true. They’re just there, poking out their heads at you, wildly beckoning. Dollar signs flash before your eyes at all the money you’re saving on a 75% off sale.

But if you wouldn’t buy it at full price, why buy it at all?

You’ve probably heard the phrase, “You see what you want to see.” But I disagree. Wanting does not make something magically appear in your peripherals, dangling in sight by your ever-burning need for it. And wanting is passive. You need to choose to participate and to look. 

You see what you look for.

This concept started burning in my mind while discussing the upcoming soccer season with my child, who was dreading having to join a new team. I said, “You’re upset. And because you’re upset, you’re looking for other things that make you upset. You’re not looking for any of the good things that might happen.”

I realized this applied to myself and my writing life, which I had been emotionally struggling with. Comparing myself to other writers, and to other people with fan bases, I was lost and unsure of how I was going to get there. I was fixating on all the challenges and the specific times other people had let me down. 

After having that discussion with my child, I knew I needed to shift the narrative. Because I am part of multiple writing communities I find value in. Many people have read my book and given me useful feedback. I am grateful for what I have accomplished and the support that I have.

There’s always going to be both bad and good in a situation. And depending on what you’re looking for, that’s what you’re going to see. What you choose to look for is the key. Because all of that stuff, good and bad, was there already.

You see what you look for.

My child told me they wanted to see the fall leaves, but there were no colors. 

I said, “Well, just look for them. They’re there. Look at the trees we drive by in the car. Start looking for color, and I promise you, you’ll see it.”

It is now the favorite game of the children to point out and aggressively yell at any colored leaves they see on our drive. It has become a game of “My leaves!” “No, my leaves!” depending on which side of the car they’re on. And we have seen every fall color—pops of red and orange, clusters of yellow, still surrounded by a sea of green.

We went on a hike, and my child’s only goal was for us to have a competition of who could find the biggest fallen leaf and who could find the most colorful one. We paused on a flat rock along the creek about halfway through the hike, to display them and vote.

I don’t remember who won.

Our favorite colored leaves displayed on a rock.

On the same hike, we also loudly pointed out any mushroom that we saw growing along the side of the trail or on the trees. It is amazing how many mushrooms you can see on a hike when the weather has been favorable, and when you’re looking for them.

It is amazing what you see if you look.

And there are a lot of horrible things being shoved into our faces recently—politics, killing, wars. There is hate, which is anger, which is fear, seeping into every explosive and viral headline that I see, and I’ve been feeling pretty down about it lately.

And if you’re feeling down about it too... all I can say is, look for the good things. Look for the inspiring things. Look for kind words, compassion, rationality, and the connection between people, between groups, between countries. Look for that—because it’s there. Don’t just accept the fear and hate being shoveled down your throat like advertisements for 75% off sales. Look deeper and examine if you actually need that hate and anxiety in your life. 

Save your energy and look for the things that bring you joy and make you feel safe, because they’re out there too. And even if it feels hard to find them, they are so worth looking for.