the world changes when you change your view of the world
practice looking again
I made a T-shirt I love. Here’s a picture.
No one has purchased it… yet. I believe in this little shirt—the design, the message, the fabric. (I’m always eager for suggestions, too. Truly—send them.)
I also really like this sartorial scripture.
It’s more accessible, and the authorship is credible. Imagine all of us in stillness, knowing God—our relationships would shift from strangers to family.
Still, the metanoia shirt gets me.
If there’s a thread that lassos my attention, it’s the question of finding a way—not just my way, but a way for us. Stillness can feel like a foreign land. Sometimes we accept life’s conditions like a travel ban.
So how do we arrive—together—at that spacious quiet? How do we give ourselves to that expanse? And (maybe most pressing for me): how can I help? Especially when the path includes so much suffering—our own and the troubles of everyone else.
Metanoia is the way.
In yoga, the sister practice of metanoia is pratipakṣa-bhāvanam: cultivating the opposite inner atmosphere. The full text in the yoga sutra says, ‘when we are bound by disruptive thoughts, find the opposite and grow it.’ (As always, I’m grateful to my teachers for this map; any errors are mine.)
Simply, we swap disturbing for something more pleasantly engaging. This premise of these practices lies in this wonder of our natural world: what we plant and tend will grow. We can grow deadly plants beside nourishing ones— the dirt doesn’t have an opinion on what we plant. Neither does the mind. Eventually, we’ll need to learn which crop we want to promote, harvest, eat, and share.
When we choose to uplift the nourishing, we put our energy into that crop. Doesn’t matter if we used to cultivate poison, now we’re choosing otherwise.
We change our paradigm.
Think of our stubborn stories—politics, religion, old wounds, inner weather—and how tightly we grip them. We’re so good at forgetting that stories bend that we can mistake transformation for betrayal.
And yet, every story changes. We change.
The more we look again—at what we believe, how we think, and the effect it has on us and those we love—the more we’ll see changes arising in us. This is re-vision. This is metanoia.
Maybe that’s why I love the shirt. I’m a step-by-step person.
A small confession about the shirt: I know it’s not the heart of the message that needs work; it’s my choice to use the Greek. Most folks don’t know (or don’t want to know) what metanoia means. My nerdy heart wants to roll her eyes because—come on!—it’s such a cool word. (It’s so meta! Don’t you hear the paranoia parallel?) Okay. Let’s look beyond the Greek!
A refined message could be:
Practice revision.
Keep looking beyond.
Train in change.
Purposefully shift your vision.
Or simply: make every effort to see it all differently.
However you describe it, doesn’t this sound like an endeavor worthy of us?
A quick reframe on the word: Over centuries of biblical translation, metanoia became repentance, which shifted our focus from transformation to regret. That’s a pretty uninviting detour. Regret may arise on the path to guide us, but it’s not the destination.
Etymology helps: meta = after/beyond, noia from nous = mind. Literally: a change of mind—a deep, durable realignment of perception. Our changed way of seeing changes us.
And of course it does.
How many times a day do we repeat old lines—about the world’s state, or our own worth, or a tired identity? Those beliefs keep carrying us.
Let’s encourage each other to see differently. Whether we’re revising disruptive thought patterns, overwhelming emotions, or behaviors we can’t take back, we can practice metanoia:
Look again. Change the mind. Revise.
How? It depends. But start here: before we revise, we attend. Here’s a quick summary of how it goes, but please note… quick and efficient isn’t always the way. Read on for practices that will stabilize you as you face the disruption.
QUICK AND DIRTY: Pause. Name. Ask. Shift.
Pause three breaths.
Name the state: anger / fear / shame.
Ask: What truth is carried that I’m meant to know? What energy is carrying it that I’m meant to release?
Shift: Let me see this differently; let me act according to a different view.
Most importantly, instead of avoiding, rejecting, or compartmentalizing, we choose presence.
The following practices are more enduring and robust. You might like to choose one or try them all over a week— whenever something arises to disturb, recall your options and give one of the following a go. It’s okay if it doesn’t work perfectly… you’re gathering information for yourself.
Sit with it. When a disruptive thought/emotion arises, be still with it. Receive its message and watch it pass.
Dialogue with it. Imagine the troubling state sitting across from you. Ask what it needs you to understand. Respond with what you know now that you didn’t know when this story formed.
Let the body help. Lie down and sigh. Shake. Cry or laugh. Let the body metabolize the energy so the mind can clear.
See what you learn as you try something new. Again, don’t procrastinate. When something hard arises, be with it in the moment. The only reason to wait is to create space so you don’t pass the buck to someone else. This is your difficult emotion—may the buck stop with you. And if you need help, call on God, your guides, saints and angels, or a coach/counselor.
Once you’ve gathered the wisdom from the disruption, cultivate a new view.
Here’s a working example: Recently, I sat with anger. Anger showed me a hurt: an experience I tried to improve didn’t need me trying to improve it. But I saw my longing to contribute. With that message, I chose a new view: My help is not always necessary because I’m not in control of the world. I love contributing with my full heart. Returning with that, I discovered: my heart will contribute in her honest way— but that contribution may be quiet and private.
That’s metanoia.
Imagine how we might change the world by changing our worldview. Imagine who we become—together.
So… what goes on the shirt? (And if you don’t wear messages: what line would you write in a thank-you note to God?)
I’m already trying out this new message on a newly designed shirt: Less Paranoia, More Metanoia.
That’s kind of fun, right?
You may like to sport some other stuff at my little etsy shop. It’s called you are everything. Because you are. And you’re meant to know that deeply.
I love you!
Powerful and very timely message, Megan. 🙏
Love this