What's in a perspective?

The other night I looked at my kids as I put them to bed. I really saw them. It was one of those moments, all too rare, where the din of thought quiets just enough for truth to present. As if cleaning a dirty window. I looked on my young daughter, tucked into her “cornucopia” (wrapped in a large blanket, tapered to a triangle at her feet, the opening a bouquet with all her stuffies arranged around her head).

Sometimes it’s worth stepping to the side of the proverbial riverbank, to observe from a different place. I recently left my job and am in the process of starting my own company (more coming, stay tuned). I feel a strong need to see Product development from a different standpoint than working as a part of other people’s companies/vision.

A habit I’ve had over the years (it’s weird) is by turning upside down, literally head between my legs like a downward dog or in a handstand. Cars pass by, impossibly attached to the road. People walk on the ceiling like strange wobbling creatures. Dead-lifters struggle against the earth’s pull like a sorcerers stone. Runners propagate a perpetual fall. The whole project is strangely addictive if only towards reminding myself of the truth that we are upside down as much as we are right side up - inversion is equally true! But we need to break our mental models to get there.

"Invert, always invert" - Charlie Munger

That perspective helps identify flaws. This is not a new trick. The old master painters used to do something similar – they’d look at the painting in a mirror, to render it backwards. The mirror would point out exactly where the likeness was broken. This is especially helpful with portraits where a nostril being off just a millimeter is the difference between a smiling Mona lisa and a grotesque cartoon. Most of the time I can spot runner’s gait flaws instantly this way.

Why does this matter?

As a patient this small re-frame makes the battle much easier to understand. After all, none of this was never ours to own. Personally I find that appreciation becomes more accessible with this inversion. It’s too easy to get swept in the rushing forces of reality.

Our minds long for unbending certainty. Ownership suggests permanence. That’s why looking at my daughter sparked this line of reasoning. We are small but critical parts of an infinite chain. Our actions ripple into the future. How much did my wife and I have to do with this girl’s creation? Everything – after all we are her parents. But also nothing. It feels hard to take credit. I did not design the alveoli to support oxygenation; nor did I invent the action potential that enables neural functions like thought and movement; I did not decide that 5 fingers is optimal for a hand design; and never-mind the immune system, too hard. No, I’m merely the executor of instructions in a bigger game. Not only did I not invent the parts, but even if I did, to claim true ownership would be misguided.

That’s just not how things are; the linguistic sloppiness reflects fundamental bias. We are stewards and guardians, but not owners.

Inversion extends beyond the physical to the more abstract domains. It’s humbling to consider myself the steward of my kids. It helps to come to terms with the fact that I do not control the grand outcome - of who my kids grow up to become, or the outcome of a tough medical battle.

That said, it’s also inspiring to know the degree to which I do! It’s not all a hot chaotic soup with no rules. Strategies can be designed, outcomes can be predicted and measured. We pulled off the Manhattan project, conduct brain surgeries and build computer chips. Control is possible.

This also works in engineering ourselves. In particular when dealing with hard medical situations, I personally believe that the mind carries inexplicable - but still real - effects on the body. We don’t know why or how but this quote resonates:

Attitude clearly matters in fighting cancer. We don’t know why…(I suspect that mental states feed back upon the immune system). But match people with the same cancer for age, class, health, socioeconomic status, and, in general, those with positive attitudes, with a strong will and purpose for living, with commitment to struggle, with an active response to aiding their own treatment and not just a passive acceptance of anything doctors say, tend to live longer. A few months later I asked Sir Peter Medawar, my personal scientific guru and a Nobelist in immunology, what the best prescription for success against cancer might be. “A sanguine personality,” he replied.

-Stephen Jay Gould (From The Median isn’t the message)

As humans we take the materials available: whether genes, molecules, atoms, words. We apply intelligence to remix these elements. Importantly, this also applies to ourselves. As Patients we have more control than we think. Sometimes it just requires adopting a different point of view.

I’ll have much more to say on the tactical parts of attitude in future posts. How have you adopted a positive frame shift in your own life (as a patient or otherwise)? Drop a comment, I’d love to hear from you.