Sitting on a train the other evening, I noticed that someone had scratched graffitti into the glass window. As I looked at it, trying to decipher what it said, I found myself getting increasingly angry, as I noticed that the window was covered with odd little scratchings.
I was angry at the yobs who had felt a need to make their mark on the world by defiling the pristine clarity of the glass. In my mind I railed at the stupidity of these people – I mean, who do they think they are, ruining my view through the glass with their inane scribblings? What sort of a world do I live in?
The train clattered and jerked across some points, shaking me from my private rant. I noticed that the sun had broken through the clouds, a single shaft of sunlight striking a beautiful old church on a wooded hill. I smiled to myself, taking in the splendour of the English countryside on a late summer’s evening. What a wonderful world I live in!
Then it dawned on me – I was still in the same world, in the same seat at the same window. But now I was looking past the ugly graffiti. Nothing had changed, except where I had chosen to put my focus!
How many times do you find yourself focussing on the wrong things?