🎙️ Podcast Script: “Two Truths, One Moment: How Perspective Shapes Experience”
Hey friend, welcome back to Running to Myself.
I’m your host, Trisha Stanton — life coach, former teacher, trail runner, wife, mom, and grandma. Around here, we talk about the real moments of everyday life and the mindset shifts that quietly shape who we become.
Today, I want to tell you a story about Veteran’s Day.
Not the holiday itself, but the way a single moment can feel completely different depending on which side of it you’re standing on. And how both perspectives can be true at the same time.
This is one of those episodes that might make you pause… just enough to consider where your own perspective is influencing your experience.
Let’s get into it.
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Last month, on Veteran’s Day, my husband, Dave, and I went to our granddaughter’s school for their annual Veteran’s program.
Listen, getting to attend events at her school is one of the greatest delights of my life right now. The flexibility in my schedule… the chance to show up for these moments… the energy of elementary school kids singing with all their hearts. I just love everything about it.
We found our seats, waited for the classes to file in, and I felt that little swell of gratitude you get when you’re watching something special unfold. Students waving paper flags. Proud parents and grandparents lined up with cameras. Veterans sitting in chairs reserved just for them. It was meaningful. It was tender. It felt big.
But as I sat there soaking it in, another part of me — the former teacher part — couldn’t help but remember what it used to feel like on the other side.
Because here’s the honest truth… as a teacher, these kinds of assemblies can be a lot.
Not bad. Not unimportant. Just… a lot.
They interrupt instructional time, yet the expectations around learning don’t go away. So teachers are juggling: “How do I keep us on track? How do I help my students transition? How do I manage the energy of an assembly and then magically redirect everyone back into math ten minutes later?”
Some students, bless them, will ride the wave of excitement from that assembly straight through the rest of the day. And good luck getting them back into long-division mode.
Then there are the teachers on the planning committee — the ones who make the program run smoothly, who arrive early to decorate both indoors and out, set up refreshments, coordinate class entrances, and think through every tiny detail so the rest of us barely notice all the work happening behind the scenes.
And this all hits around November 11.
A point in the school year where teachers are already running a little low in the tank.
So I’ve seen this day from both angles now.
And let me assure you, those experiences couldn’t feel more different.
As a teacher, it felt like one more thing to manage.
As a grandparent, it felt like a gift.
As a teacher, it was a logistical challenge.
As a grandparent, it was deeply meaningful.
As a teacher, it felt like “How will I fit everything in?”
As a grandparent, it felt like “I’m so grateful I get to be here.”
And here’s the important part…
Neither version was wrong. Both were true.
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Later that day, when I was thinking about the program — the music, the kids, the veterans who stood when their branch of service was announced — I realized something.
My feelings about this day didn’t change because the program changed.
My feelings changed because my perspective changed.
Same circumstance.
Different role.
Different experience.
It was such a simple reminder that two people can stand in the very same moment and walk away feeling completely different things.
Not because one of them is wrong…
Not because one of them “should” feel differently…
But because perspective shapes experience.
Teachers feel the pressure.
Grandparents feel the pride.
Veterans feel the honor.
Students feel the excitement.
Administrators feel the responsibility.
All of those experiences are happening simultaneously.
And all of them are true.
So I want to offer this to you…
Where in your life might someone else simply be standing in a different place than you? Not better, not worse. Just different.
Where might you be holding your own perspective as the truth instead of one truth?
And I don’t ask that to call you out. I ask it because we all do this. It is human. We see the world through the lens we are standing in. That’s not a flaw, it’s just how our brains are wired.
But sometimes… that lens can be tight. It can be narrow. It can only see what we’re feeling in that moment. And we forget that the person across from us — the one we love, or live with, or work beside — is carrying a completely different set of thoughts, pressures, memories, and interpretations into the same moment.
Maybe it’s inside your home.
You’re exhausted from the day. They’re quiet because they had a long day too. You read their silence one way. They’re experiencing it another way.
Maybe it’s in a relationship where you feel like you’re giving more than you’re receiving. You’re looking at the situation through the lens of emotional effort. The other person might be looking at it through the lens of stress, or fear, or simply not knowing how to show up the way you need.
Maybe it’s at work.
You’re thinking your coworker is being difficult. They might be thinking they’re protecting a project or carrying pressure you don’t see. Same meeting. Same conversation. Two completely different internal worlds.
Maybe it’s a situation where you’re feeling unheard or misunderstood. You’re convinced the other person “doesn’t get it.” But what if they’re just processing it differently? Or prioritizing something you can’t see from where you’re standing?
When you remember that two people can experience the same moment in two very different ways, something softens. The tight grip loosens. The emotional pressure eases just a bit.
You stop making one person right and the other wrong.
You stop turning your perspective into a verdict.
And instead… you get curious.
Curiosity is gentle. Curiosity doesn’t assume. Curiosity says, “Help me understand what this looks like from where you’re standing.”
And when curiosity walks into the room, compassion follows.
Because once you see someone else’s perspective — not as a threat to your own, but simply as another version of the truth — empathy has space to grow.
Compassion is what opens the door to connection.
Connection is what helps us feel anchored instead of isolated.
And connection is one of the greatest gifts we can offer ourselves and the people around us.
Belonging doesn’t come from matching perspectives.
It comes from honoring the humanity in the perspectives we don’t share.
And when you can do that — when you can allow two truths to sit side by side — the world gets bigger. Your relationships get sturdier. And you feel more grounded in your own life, not because everything agrees with you, but because everything doesn’t have to.
As for me, sitting in that school cafeteria, watching those kids sing their hearts out, I felt something I couldn’t feel when I was a teacher running on fumes.
I felt the depth of what the teachers and staff were doing behind the scenes… and I felt immense gratitude for it.
That’s the power of perspective.
Same program.
Different seat.
Different experience.
Both true.
Alright friend, thank you for being here with me today.
Take a moment this week and notice where your perspective is shaping your experience. Not to judge it or change it, just to notice. You might be surprised at what you learn.
And if this episode gave you something to think about, I’d love for you to hit subscribe so you never miss a conversation. It also helps so much when you share the show with a friend who might need it too.
I’ll see you next time.
