pomegranate perspectives
My partner is almost a whole foot taller than I am. This significant height gap means, among other things, that I am addressed frequently with Tolkien-inspired nicknames. It also comes with bouts of teasing about how it can possibly be that someone as short as I am can have so many opinions.
I like to think of it as doing the best I can with what I was given!
The difference in our height also literally impacts what we see and the way we each see it. This is never clearer than in the midst of our morning breakfast routine during pomegranate season.
Once the coffee cups are almost empty, the conversation turns to the day’s to-do list. Then dishes get rinsed, crumbs are swept off the countertop with a damp dish cloth and vitamins are washed down with the last swallows of cold coffee. It’s then that I notice the spray of reddish pink splattered all over the plain white backsplash. And I mean all over! Each time this happens, I wonder how my partner could not have seen the gory evidence of this fruit massacre since he was the one who had peeled the pomegranate and extracted the seeds. Irritating yes, but most times it seems too minor to even mention. Sort of cap-off-the-toothpaste level of annoyance. Bigger fish to fry and all that. But one day, I’m not as gracious. I express my complete bewilderment to my partner, through slightly gritted teeth and a hard-to-hide eye twitch. His look of bewilderment matches my own. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Little Hobbit.” That's when it hits me that he physically can’t see the mess. His above average height means that the upper cabinets block his sightline to the backsplash that I can see without obstruction. He’d have to physically fold forward, squat down or stand a distance back to see the spatters.
Different sights for different heights!
In light of this variety of physical perspectives, I'm thinking it might be a good idea to replace my unconscious reactivity to the minor messes of life with awareness, more grace and the steadfastness of the brave, little Hobbit that I am.