Perspective.

In this picture is my grandpa pushing cattle in the pasture with my dad, building his perspective like my parents influenced mine, and like I without doubt will influence my kids.

"One thing I've learned over the years is there really is no truth, just everyone's perspectives" -- Bee Gees

Growing up I have distinct memories of my mom and me singing all around the house. Every time we would clean the 6 CD stereo would give the vacuum noise a run for its money. When I was with my dad at the farm 102.3 FM always drifted out of the barn radio as we walked the aisle milking cows. Paul Harvey, swap'n shop, and the sound of pulsators define my childhood. In the last five years I have spent a lot of time milking cows, driving around on dirt roads in Minnesota, and digging in the flower beds around my home always with a little background noise. As I've gotten older the 6 CD stereo has been replaced with Spotify and Paul Harvey has given way to a strong podcast addiction.

To me the background noise is such a comfort. I feel like I have someone with me in the garden planting flowers or laughing in the background while I'm scrubbing dishes. But I've found it's almost like an old hypnosis tape that plays on repeat and starts to mold your perspective, good or bad. Maybe that's why I need some pump up music to clean the house or why when the winter grey skies set in I switch out a few murder mystery podcast for something a little more light hearted. I need a reminder to turn of the news and turn on a little "Armchair Expert" because what I surround myself with becomes my perspective, my truth.