View from my window

 View from My Window

The phrase “view from my window” sounds simple, almost ordinary. Yet, it carries layers of meaning far beyond what the eyes can see. A window is never just an opening in a wall. It is a boundary, a filter, and a perspective—all at once.

In the photograph above, the window of a moving MRT train frames the city outside. Highways, buildings, trees, and passing vehicles appear slightly softened through the glass. This is not the city as it truly is, but the city as I experience it at that moment. And that is precisely the point.

A window reminds us that we never see the world directly. We see it through our own “glass”—our experiences, beliefs, emotions, and circumstances. Just as the train window adds reflections, stickers, and a frame, our lives add layers to how we interpret what is happening outside us. Two people can look through different windows at the same city and come away with very different stories.

The window also speaks of distance. I am inside the train, protected, seated, and still, while the world outside rushes by. This separation creates reflection. From behind the glass, the city feels less chaotic, more orderly, almost calm. In life, distance often gives us clarity. Stepping back—even briefly—allows us to observe without being overwhelmed.

There is also movement in this view. The train does not stop for me to perfect my composition. The scene constantly changes. This mirrors life itself. Moments pass quickly, and if we do not pay attention, they disappear unnoticed. The window becomes a reminder to be present, to observe carefully, even when everything feels temporary.

Interestingly, the window frames what I see and what I do not see. It chooses the limits of my vision. This is a powerful metaphor. In life, our “windows” define our focus. What we allow into our view shapes our thoughts, our gratitude, and our understanding. Sometimes, widening the window changes everything.

Ultimately, “view from my window” is not about the city, the highway, or the buildings. It is about perspective. It is about how we look at the world while being on a journey—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. The same view may pass before many people, but the meaning each person takes from it is uniquely their own.

Perhaps the real lesson is this: we may not always be able to change the view outside our window, but we can choose how we see it. And sometimes, simply pausing to look out—thoughtfully and gratefully—is enough.