When life feels barren and broken, what if the view is simply waiting for you to see it differently? This story explores how a single metaphor—and a shift in mindset—can transform the way we see the world, even in its starkest seasons.
A Room with a View
During my first semester of college, I lived on the 18th floor of a high-rise dorm, Guinn Hall, on the edge of Texas Woman’s University campus. The room had a massive window stretching the full length and more than half the height of the wall, overlooking the petite yet beautiful campus grounds. I was able to use my scholarship funds to upgrade to a private room, and it was honestly a great experience.
In the fall, it was magical to see the colors of the trees changing from so high above. Growing up in southeast Texas, we didn’t have much of a fall experience—most of the trees around were evergreen pines. Now, fall in Denton, Texas, is not to be compared with Vermont, but it was starkly different from Orange, Texas. As the leaves fell and the days grew colder, I found myself growing less fond of the view. It seemed dull, colorless, and lifeless—until something shifted my perspective.
The Simile That Changed Everything
Reading has always been a passion of mine (except for the few years after I completed my PhD, when I’m pretty sure I suffered from PTSD and couldn’t read or write anything).
I read a book that winter, living in that dorm, that changed how I saw the vista in a single moment. I wish I could remember the name of the book, the author, or even what the book was about, but all I remember is one phrase of fantastic imagery that has never left me:
“The barren trees were like a fine, delicate lace pinned upon the pale, wintry sky.”
That simile changed how I saw the landscape—and every landscape like it afterward. It began to teach me to see and appreciate things for what they are rather than for what they are not.
From the Mediterranean to the Dust Bowl
Similarly, in January of 2006, I moved from the coast of Spain, where I’d worked as an au pair, to Lubbock, Texas, to start my master’s degree. In Málaga, Spain, the home I lived in sat on a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, an ancient Moorish and Roman castle, and a historic Plaza de Toros (bullfighting ring). In Lubbock, my apartment overlooked a flat cotton field that had been razed and left with nothing but brown dust and rolling tumbleweeds.
I cried as I sat on that West Texas balcony shortly after arriving, thinking about what I’d given up. Over time, I activated my delicate lace lesson and began to appreciate the sprawling, flat, and dusty West Texas landscape for what it was—rather than what it wasn’t.
What Is the Delicate Lace Mindset?
Nearly 20 years later, I’m still reminding myself to activate my delicate lace mindset—but not just about landscapes. I try my best to use this mindset when facing unexpected circumstances, chaos, struggles, and failures—all of which I’m facing in spades right now.
The delicate lace mindset is the practice of choosing to see beauty, value, or meaning in something—even when it feels barren, bleak, or broken. It’s about learning to appreciate things for what they are, not for what they aren’t. It’s a perspective shift rooted in gratitude, resilience, and intentional awareness.
This mindset is a blend of what researchers call an asset-based or strengths-based approach. It’s also a cousin to the growth mindset, as popularized by Dr. Carol Dweck, which invites us to view challenges as opportunities for growth.
Needless to say, it’s about mindset and perspective—choosing (mindset) to see something differently (perspective).
In short:
The delicate lace mindset means looking for what’s there, not mourning what’s missing.
My book, Magic Mirror, is all about mindset and perspective. It’s about choosing to look at who you are, your lived experiences, and your choices through the lens of a broader perspective—one many of us have been conditioned not to see.
So I’ll ask you:
What is one area of your life where you might benefit from a shift in perspective?
What are your strategies for making that shift?
What are the barriers to managing the perspective shift?
Finding Perspective in the Chaos
When life comes at you hard—when you’re drowning in struggle—it can feel almost impossible to shift perspective. When every ounce of you is fighting to keep your head above water, clarity is fleeting.
It’s like surfacing after an unpleasant and scary SCUBA dive—when you’ve been battered and forced along by a powerful current, tossed and scraped across the ocean floor, only to finally surface after a battle of a safety stop, bobbing amongst rough seas. You can’t see the other divers, much less the boat. In flat seas, you could see further, but swells and whitecaps obscure your vision.
In such situations, you inflate your surface marker buoy (SMB) to increase visibility and hope the boat finds you before the current carries you farther away.
So how do you find perspective in life’s moments like this?
As a diver, you must:
Remain calm
Conserve energy
Keep the SMB as visible as possible
There’s actually very little else you can do.
You can’t swim against the current.
You can’t control the waves.
You can’t hide from the sun, wind, rain, or other elements.
The takeaway? Focus on what you can control.
A regular mantra and philosophy of mine.
Focus on What You Can Control
About 10 years ago, I began studying different life philosophies and stumbled upon the ancient philosophy of Stoicism. It encourages people to find inner peace and resilience by focusing on what they can control and accepting life’s inevitable challenges.
I’d first heard of this idea early in adulthood via Stephen Covey’s Circle of Influence. Hungry to learn more, I began reading deeply about Stoicism. I love the writings of modern-day stoic philosopher Ryan Holiday and have since read all of his books. I’m newly reading urban philosopher Gary John Bishop, whose work also aligns with stoic principles.
The truth? I’m better at focusing on what I can control than accepting life’s inevitable challenges. But they go hand in hand. This is where the delicate lace mindset becomes essential.
Let the Trees Teach You
Circumstances may suck. It may be incredibly painful. I may not like it, want it, or deserve it—but damnit, I am going to find a way to see this season as delicate lace.
So, wherever you are right now, whatever you’re facing, I wish you two things:
That you can focus on what you can control.
That you can find a way to see what you are going through as delicate lace—barren trees that will one day sprout again.
