Episode 65
Have you ever walked into a conversation already knowing how someone was going to respond…
Only to discover you were completely wrong?
Have you ever worried about what someone might think of you…
Only to realize later they weren’t thinking that at all?
Or perhaps you’ve found yourself relating to someone based on who they used to be…
Only to discover they’ve changed far more than you realized.
What if many of the reactions, assumptions, fears, and expectations we carry aren’t actually about what’s happening now?
What if we’re seeing life through old stories, old lenses?
This week I want to explore how the lenses we carry shape our experience, how projections work in both directions, and why updating our view of ourselves and others may be one of the most powerful things we can do.
And if you’re ready to join me, pull up a comfy chair, invite in your Soul, and be open to receive exactly what you need to live, be, and thrive as the embodied Soul you are.
Recently, I had two experiences that, on the surface, looked completely different. But in hindsight, they were teaching me the exact same thing from two different angles.
The first came through a conversation with a friend where she shared a story.
She was telling me about a relative who, for much of her life, would bring up painful stories from the past whenever they were together.
Stories about childhood.
Stories about family dynamics.
Stories about relationships.
And every time these conversations happened, she would feel herself pulled into that old energy.
That old identity.
That old version of herself.
But recently she had a beautiful realization.
She realized that the stories being shared no longer reflected who she was.
The relationships had changed.
Healing had happened.
Life had moved on.
And yet this relative continued to speak to her as though those old circumstances were still true. As though she was still the same person.
So the next time it happened, she gently addressed it.
She shared how it impacted her.
She shared that this wasn’t her reality anymore.
And she noticed that it changed everything.
As I listened to her, I thought that was such a powerful example of becoming aware of how someone else’s story about us can continue long after we’ve changed.
But then something else happened.
I had realization landed that morning that took the teaching even deeper because projections don’t only happen toward us. We project onto other people too.
That very same morning, before I spoke with my friend, we had been preparing for visitors. Our first visitors at our home here in Costa Rica.
And if I’m being completely honest, I wasn’t feeling very good.
I was anxious. I was stressed. I was upset that things weren’t further along.
I wished we had more furniture. I wished more artwork was up. I wished certain projects were finished.
And as I listened to my friend speaking, I suddenly realized something.
I wasn’t responding to reality.
I was responding to a story.
I was projecting all of my own fears and insecurities onto our visitors.
I was assuming what they would think.
Assuming what they would notice.
Assuming what they would judge.
And then another realization followed.
I hadn’t seen these people in years. Years!
Just like I’ve changed. They’ve changed too. And yet I was relating to them through an old lens. An old story. n old version of who I thought they were.
And perhaps even more importantly, everything I was afraid they might judge was actually something I was judging within myself.
That was the real gift.
Because projection isn’t really about the other person. Projection reveals something about us.
If I’m worried someone will think I’m not successful enough, perhaps there is a part of me questioning my own success.
If I’m worried someone will think my home isn’t good enough, perhaps there is a part of me that believes it isn’t good enough.
If I’m worried someone will think I’m not enough, perhaps there is a part of me that still carries that wound.
And so I made a conscious choice that morning. I decided to put the story down. I decided to stop carrying it. I chose to trust that where we are is exactly where we are meant to be. That our home is enough. That I am enough. And then I got curious. Because I wanted to see what would happen.
Would reality reflect my old fear back to me? Or had I actually released it? Just through that moment of conscious choice.
Well, our visitors arrived.
And none of the things I worried about happened.
None of them.
They loved our place.
They weren’t focused on what was missing.
They weren’t evaluating us.
They weren’t measuring us against some imaginary standard.
They were simply happy to be with us.
Happy to spend time together.
Happy to see what we had built.
And what became so obvious was that the thing I feared existed almost entirely within me.
As I reflected on both of these experiences afterwards, something else became clear.
Neither situation was really about the situation itself. They were both about the lens.
In my friend’s case, someone was relating to her through a story that no longer reflected who she was.
And in my case, I was relating to our visitors through a story that no longer reflected who they were.
And that realization stopped me in my tracks. Because we often think we’re seeing people exactly as they are.
But often we’re seeing our last story about them.
A version frozen in time.
A memory.
A wound.
An assumption.
An old experience that we’ve unconsciously carried forward into the present moment.
And when we do that, we aren’t actually responding to what’s here. We’re responding to what was.
And the truth is, we’re all changing far more quickly than we realize. Yet many of us continue relating to ourselves and others as though nothing has changed. As though we’re still the same person. As though they’re still the same person. When in reality, life may be inviting us to update the lens.
Now here’s what I find fascinating
My friend changed her experience by addressing a projection being placed upon her. I changed my experience by recognizing a projection I was placing upon someone else. Different circumstances. Same lesson.
Awareness creates choice. And choice changes experience.
Now I want to pause here because I think this is important.
Sometimes the lens belongs to us.
Sometimes we are making assumptions.
Sometimes we are carrying fears.
Sometimes we are projecting old stories onto someone else.
But sometimes another person is relating to us through an outdated lens.
Sometimes someone still sees us as who we were years ago.
Sometimes a family member still sees the wounded version of us.
Sometimes a friend still sees the version of us that existed before healing happened.
Sometimes people genuinely haven’t updated the picture.
And when that happens, awareness is still the first step.
Notice how you feel. Notice the contraction. Notice the heaviness. Notice the irritation. Notice the hurt. Because whether the lens belongs to you or someone else, awareness is always where your power begins.
And so if you’d like to work with this in your own life, here’s a simple practice.
The next time you find yourself feeling anxious, frustrated, embarrassed, defensive, hurt, or contracted, pause.
And Step One.
Notice the contraction.
And ask: What am I feeling right now?
Step Two.
Identify the story.
What am I assuming?
What am I believing?
What story am I telling myself about this person or situation?
Step Three.
Ask yourself if it’s actually true.
Do I know this to be true? Or am I assuming it?
Am I responding to reality? Or am I responding to a story?
Step Four.
Whose lens is this? Is this my lens? Is this their lens? Or perhaps a little bit of both?
Step Five.
Choose consciously.
If I wasn’t carrying this story, what would I do?
What would I say?
How would I show up?
Because once you become aware of the lens, you have choice.
Now there is one more piece I want to touch on.
So far we’ve been talking about projections that feel uncomfortable. The negative ones. But projections can also point us toward our gifts.
You may meet someone and think:
Oh my goodness, they are such an incredible speaker. Or they’re so compassionate. Or they’re so creative. Or they’re so loving.
Or someone may say something similar to you.
And while there are exceptions, often what we consistently recognize and admire in others points toward qualities already alive in us. Potential waiting to be expressed. A gift waiting to be embodied. A part of ourselves asking for permission to come forward.
And so this week, I invite you to become curious.
Notice the moments where you feel contracted.
Notice the moments where you feel activated.
Notice the stories you tell about yourself.
Notice the stories you tell about other people.
And perhaps most importantly, ask yourself:
Am I responding to who this person is right now? Or am I responding to a version of them that exists in my memory?
And where might I still be responding to an old version of myself?
Because we are changing. All of us. Far more quickly than we often realize.
And sometimes the greatest gift we can give ourselves—and each other—is the willingness to update the lens. To see what is actually here.
Not what was here five years ago.
Not what was here last month.
Not what was here yesterday.
But what is here now.
And from that place, we gain access to something incredibly powerful.
Choice.
And with choice comes the possibility of a completely different experience.
If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences in the comments.
Have you ever realized you were seeing someone through an outdated story? Or perhaps discovered that someone was still relating to an old version of you? I’d love to hear about it.
And I’m sending you so much love for the week again and, I look forward to being with you again next week.
