The communication book I am reading made an interesting suggestion. While it did not mention switching shoes, it invited the reader to imagine waking up as his or her partner. Starting with the other side of the bed, picture yourself in a different routine, with another wardrobe, alternate priorities in terms of hair and commute. Without reenacting those movies where the plot rests on swapped identities, the exercise is fascinating. On occasion John has offered to do my tasks, like getting Ben ready for school. Come to think of it I have never stepped up to complete his late night rides for kids, and it is better for all of us if I resist any urge to teach the twins to drive.

But I like the idea of trying to experience life from someone else's perspective. I heard about a teacher who shuffles around her classroom on her knees just to see what it looks like for her third graders. Another invited her college students to step out of regular grooves and sit someplace novel. Under a desk. In the window well. On a table. It was a small way to jimmy open the doors we so easily leave shut. The ones that let us be curious.  

The lovely thing about the crystals that hang in my sewing room are their facets. They catch the sun's rays and toss them around as if more directions are more glorious than a lone one. Which is true.

One time my sewing student chose to cut up white fabric and piece it back together. I gently suggested mixing in a few other colors, for interest, but he didn't budge. If I am honest there are times when I leave no room for anyone else's opinion in a conversation. Maybe I could change that.