For a long time, I thought perspective-taking meant expanding my view.
Reading more. Listening harder. Seeking out difference.

More recently, I’ve come to realise it also involves understanding what I can’t see from where I stand.

And while that shift sounds subtle. It isn’t.
It has changed how I listen, how I decide, and – perhaps most importantly – how I pause.

I used to think good perspective-taking was an active skill. Something you do.
Now I experience it more as a positional practice. Something you locate.

Where I am standing shapes what feels obvious.
What I notice.
What I dismiss as noise.
What I assume is universal.

This became clear to me in a moment that would have once passed unnoticed.

I was listening to a leader describe a decision they were confident was “the right call.” Their reasoning was sound. Their intent was clean. Their tone was calm. Nothing about it was reckless or careless.

And yet, something in me slowed.

Not because the decision was wrong.
Because of how complete it sounded.

There was no visible curiosity about what might look different from another position. No space held for what could be invisible from where they were standing.
Certainty had settled too quickly.

I didn’t interrupt. I didn’t challenge.
I paused.

And that pause has become a discipline for me.

Where I once leaned into clarification – asking better questions, gathering more data – I now also attend to position. Mine. Theirs. Ours.

I listen for what feels settled too soon.
I notice when speed replaces orientation.
I track when confidence is grounded in coherence rather than connection.

It might be easy to see this as doubt or second-guessing ourselves. It’s not.

It’s about recognising that every perspective is shaped by where we stand – relationally, structurally, historically, emotionally.

And that some things remain unseen until position shifts.

In my work, I see how often we mistake positional certainty for truth.

Leaders assume resistance is personal, rather than positional – emerging from proximity to risk, workload, or consequence they no longer carry. Teams interpret silence as disengagement, when it’s more often a function of safety, power, or timing. Organisations default to “alignment” without first checking who has been asked to do the aligning.

None of this comes from ill intent.
It comes from standing somewhere and forgetting that standing somewhere always means not standing elsewhere.

What’s changed most for me is not what I say in these moments, but how I hold them.

I am less interested in resolving difference quickly.
More interested in creating conditions where multiple positions can remain visible without being collapsed into agreement.

I allow decisions to take an extra breath.
I leave questions open a little longer.
I resist the urge to tidy uncertainty into clarity too early.

This does not require me to have the widest view in the room.
It asks me to know that no view is ever complete.

It is the willingness to hold authority without dominance.
Insight without insistence.
Perspective without supremacy.

I’ve found there is a quiet humility in recognising that what feels obvious to us may be shaped more by where we stand than by what is true.

And that humility changes the quality of our leadership, our relationships, our conversations.

Especially in moments of disagreement…
when the stakes are high…
when we feel certain.

So here is the invitation I’m sitting with, and offering to you.

As you move through your week, notice where certainty shows up easily.
Notice where you feel sure, settled, done.

And gently ask yourself:

From where I am standing right now, what might be invisible – and still shaping everything?

Not as something to do, as a way of being and seeing.

Because sometimes the most meaningful perspective shift is not expanding the view – but recognising the limits of the one we already have.

With truth and love