Outlooks on life. Perceptions vary each moment and each experience
Outlooks on life
In what now feels like a faraway time—long before the lockdown began and before the world collectively paused—I visited a professional photographer for both business and personal reasons. We were preparing to launch a new product in the coming months, and I wanted to see how a true expert would capture it. I had no intention of interfering, so I kept respectfully out of his way, content to observe quietly from a distance as he set up his equipment and began working.
What struck me almost immediately was the sheer precision of his craft. His attention to detail was astonishing. He noticed shadows, reflections, and tiny distortions that my untrained eyes had never even considered. What looked perfectly fine—excellent, even—to me was, in his view, not quite right. Not yet. Not until the light fell at exactly the angle he wanted, not until the product revealed itself as he knew it could.
Being a curious sort of chap, I eventually asked him what he was looking at, or looking for, that I clearly wasn’t seeing. He smiled, motioned me over, and invited me to look through the camera’s viewfinder. And in that moment, everything changed. It became immediately obvious that only a few millimetres of movement—literally the slightest shift—could completely alter the shadows, the mood, the reflections, and even the emotional tone of the image.
From where I had been standing, I thought I was seeing what he was seeing. But I wasn’t. Not even close. My distant vantage point gave me an entirely different picture, one that bore little resemblance to the precise, nuanced reality he was working with through the lens.
And the more I thought about it, the more I realised how true this is—not only in the photographer’s studio, but in almost every area of life. Two people can stand in front of the same painting and yet see something entirely different. Their experience of the artwork will be shaped by where they stand, the light falling on the canvas, the angle of their gaze, and, of course, their own personal history, preferences, expectations, and emotional state. The painting is the same, but the perception is not.
This becomes even more important when we consider the images and thoughts we run through our own minds. A fear, a phobic response, a sense of dread, or a deeply rooted self-limiting belief is experienced vividly and personally by the individual who holds it. Others may try to interpret it, understand it, or even minimise it, but their interpretation will rarely match the lived reality of the person who carries that fear.
And this is where my work comes in. I often tell people that no problem is too small, too trivial, or too insignificant if it is affecting someone’s quality of life. A mental picture may not always be easy to change, but it can be understood differently. It can be reframed. It can be seen through new eyes, with new insight, and with a gentler, more compassionate perspective.
As a Hypnotherapist
When I trained as a hypnotherapist, one of the most important lessons I learned was the value of stepping into the client’s world as closely as possible. Only by genuinely understanding their experience—their “viewfinder,” so to speak—can we hope to help them find solutions, manage their challenges, and ultimately resolve the issues that trouble them.
Just as the photographer must understand lighting, shade, surface texture, and the subtle interplay of elements that create the perfect image, I must understand the emotional landscape, thought patterns, and internal narratives of the person sitting before me. Only when the subject is understood clearly can I begin to form an accurate picture of the problem. And only then, through gentle shifts—small millimetres of mental movement—can we begin to reposition thoughts, ideas, and expectations.
These subtle adjustments can transform the mental picture into one that is more pleasing, more motivating, and more empowering. And when the picture changes, the emotional and physical responses change with it. A new internal image can create a new external reality.
This philosophy is woven into my hypnosis audio programs as well. I take time to explain the mind-body connection, to help people understand why they feel the way they do, and to show them how their internal “lighting” and “angles” influence their emotional responses. When people understand the mechanics of their own mind, they gain far more benefit from the recordings. And judging by the feedback I receive, this approach seems to resonate deeply.
The Images We Project
All too often, people like to appear as though they are managing their lives well—at least on the surface. They allow others to see only what they want them to see, projecting a polished or carefully curated image that may not reflect their true reality. But maintaining this façade can be exhausting. And eventually, the cracks begin to show. When the carefully constructed image collapses, it often surprises those around them, who had no idea what was really going on.
It is far healthier to acknowledge the real picture of one’s life circumstances—to see it honestly, without distortion—and then take steps to change it. Hoping that something better will simply appear one day is rarely effective. Change begins with clarity, with understanding, and with the courage to look through the viewfinder rather than from across the room.
When we see ourselves clearly, we can begin to adjust the angle, shift the lighting, and reposition the elements of our lives in ways that help us feel more confident, more whole, and more at ease within ourselves.
And to quote my photographer friend, when the picture finally comes together… SMILE.