What a beautiful and messy week it was out in NYC. Traveling in January out of Minnesota I knew the tempature would be warmer the back home but didn’t predict the snow and I will tell you, after trudging through this for days I didn’t hear one single complaint from my teenagers. If you can believe it the two of them insisted on longer days running around the city then my husband and I felt up to.

This photo, taken from the hotel one night after we had trekked through hours of snow, is more than just a memory of escaping the winter flurries. It’s a reminder of perception—how differently we each experience the same moment. I went into this trip thinking I was dragging the teens around in the cold, determined to shield myself from the icy chaos. But as it turns out, they were loving every second of it! While I was internally grumbling about trudging through snow, they were soaking up the adventure, forming their own positive narrative of the experience.

I’ve heard a lot of conversations lately about perception, and it really struck a chord as I reflected on this trip. Last year, my focus was on “mindset.” I spent an entire year working on evaluating situations inwardly, aiming to create peace and approach challenges with positivity. What I didn’t realize until recently, though, was that while I worked so hard to control my mindset, I had neglected a crucial aspect: other people’s perceptions.

You see, while we might feel confident in the way we handle situations, the truth is, every interaction has two (or more) stories running parallel. My teens weren’t fighting the cold or trudging begrudgingly through the snow like I assumed—they were enjoying the adventure in their own way. Their perspective was vastly different from mine, and it added an element I wasn’t factoring in.

This realization has given me a new focus for the year. While I’ll continue to work on cultivating a positive, forward-moving headspace, I’ll also pay closer attention to how others perceive shared moments. It’s not just about adapting to circumstances for our own peace but also recognizing the reflections and reactions of those around us.

So, as I looked out the window that night, seeing the snow blanketing the world outside, I felt a shift. The cold was no longer just a challenge to endure—it was a shared experience, full of different stories and perceptions. Moving forward, I want to leave more room in my encounters and adventures for those other stories to shine, shaping a fuller, more connected picture of the moment.

Life, after all, is less about trudging through and more about learning how to walk in step with others.