Through the cloud I could see the towns, the roads, even tiny cars moving below — the rhythm of life. The contrast touched me deeply: the mystical above and the ordinary below. Heaven and earth layered together. It spoke to me about duality — the same kind we carry in our own inner world.
From the mountaintop, everything felt lighter, clearer. Perspective came naturally, almost without effort. But I realised that when we are “down there” — in the density of everyday life — problems can feel overwhelming, consuming all of our attention.
Later that night, over dinner in Montserrat with a new friend, the reflection grew deeper. She didn’t speak Chinese, but she asked me if it was true that the word “crisis” in Chinese is also “opportunity.” I was intrigued by the timing of her question and explained:
危 (wēi) means crisis or danger
機 (jī) means opportunity, or chance
Together, they hold a paradox: within every crisis lies the seed of opportunity.
Her question felt like an echo of what Montserrat had already shown me through the clouds.
Life will always bring moments that feel unbearable — too much to carry. What if, by lifting our perspective to a higher place or even just pause for a moment, we could see differently? Maybe then, life wouldn’t feel quite so heavy. Crisis is not only an ending; it can also be a doorway. Sometimes, all it takes is a small shift in perspective to change how we feel.
Someone with quiet, subtle wisdom once said, “Flip it,” and it sparked something in me. It means making a conscious choice to shift your mindset — to turn a negative thought, feeling, or situation into something positive. The moment we flip it, the energy shifts instantly. The negative spiral begins to lose its grip — the light finds its way in.
It’s a simple but powerful reminder I carry with me: flip it.
