The Truest and Most Useful Cliché
Context is everything is one of those phrases that sounds so obvious it almost feels meaningless. It’s a cliché. But it’s also something people say when they want to sound wise but don’t take the time to get specific.
And yet. I’m increasingly convinced it’s the truest and most useful cliché we have.
Because nothing we decide, believe, buy, justify, defend, or regret exists outside of context. Every choice lives inside a story. And most of the time, we’re responding to the story more than the facts. When the story’s compelling and context is everything, we’re more likely to miss facts.
And here’s the embarrassing truth. I learned this today.
Approximately 20 years ago I was on vacation in Hawaii. During the visit I did a lot of wandering the Oahu beach boardwalk. Even though I’m not much of a shopper, I found it fun and met lots of friendly boutique owners.
They all chatted about how the big corporate brands were buying up their shops and taking over the territory, just as the white man had when Hawaii became a state. Most were going out of business and having big sales. I’ve since returned and found this to be true. These cute and truly Hawaiian-owned boutiques were replaced with Roxy Swimwear, Uggs, and Starbucks.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Starbucks, colorful bikinis, and cozy boots. Still, I felt for these struggling shop owners and spent more time in their shops than I usually would. The way these shopkeeper stories held me rapt shows and example of how context is everything. Even my usual go to Starbucks wasn’t feeling as important that day.
One shop in particular felt special because everything they sold had an indigenous Hawaiian feel. They sold beautiful, locally carved statues. The owner explained that the wood was koa, only found on the islands. They told me about the artists who had made them by hand and were now out of a job.
Many of these statues would look fantastic in my apartment and I grew especially fond of a Buddha head with a calm, ingratiating expression. I asked how much it was and they said it was marked down to half off and $400.Hearing this, I twisted my lips to the side and said that maybe I’d come back. I had to think about it.
They were cool with this and said they’d love to see me again and they hoped I’d have a great rest of the day. As I was leaving, an especially kind employee even suggested a cool path where I could run because I’d mentioned I was looking for one.
Identity matters when context is everything
The next morning I watched the sunrise and jogged along this suggested path. I thought about how this vacation felt like a new beginning. My daughter (now applying to medical school) was a small baby. I’d discovered a profound love like I’d never known in raising her.
Maybe it was the runner’s high.
Maybe it was the Honolulu coffee.
Maybe my walls were just a little too white.
I decided to go back to the shop and ask about the Buddha statue. This was a large purchase and it wasn’t like me to drop this kind of cash. But I was enamored of this experience.
Contributing to resistance against corporate greed.
Saving money on a locally hand-carved koa statue.
Supporting the indigenous community.
I loved the idea that I was the kind of person who did all these things. I was checking boxes. Maybe I had some moral fiber after all. I couldn’t wait to make a difference.
When I returned to the shop that afternoon, I asked if they’d ship it to me in NYC and they said they’d love to, adding that shipping was free to “the mainland.” I was sold. I bought it for $400. Didn’t even haggle. It was a fundamental win.
For twenty years, I believed I had something valuable. Not just emotionally valuable. Objectively valuable.
Rare wood.
Hand-carved.
Special.
Meaningful.
Worth more than what I paid.
That belief lived quietly in my mind for two decades without a single challenge. It never needed to be. The context protected it.
For the past twenty years I’ve had my Buddha head on prominent display. In fact in my previous apartment, it was the first thing you’d see upon entering. The statue evoked more than just that idyllic vacation.
The warm and comforting face also reminded me of a favorite college study I’d loved. It was a thirty day intensive in Philosophy on the topic Appearance Versus Reality in which we’d read Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse. That book and that class changed my perspective in a powerful way.
I didn’t realize it then, but I was living inside that exact question of what is appearance versus reality for twenty years. I just didn’t know it.
Context is everything – even a lie sometimes
Because the other day, I was searching online for a new Buddha statue. There’s one in my yoga studio I’ve grown to love. I was curious how much it would cost, even just a small version. You can find pretty much anything online these days and I love this full body version of the Buddha sitting in meditation. I ended up on Amazon.com, which didn’t surprise me.
I kept scrolling. I was in scroll mode. Then I saw it.
The exact Buddha head. Made of wood. On Amazon.com. For $53.00.
Let’s just say it’s not hand carved.
It’s not koa wood.
It’s not indigenous to Hawaii.
Let’s just say reality showed up. Context is everything and my context for this coveted object now felt like everything was falling away. The story behind it was wiped clean as a brand new white board.
In that moment, something collapsed. Not just the price difference. The story. For twenty years, all of the value had lived in my head. It’s why context is everything. The story behind the meanings we make color our whole belief system.
In memory.
In narrative.
In identity.
In emotion.
Objectively, it was never rare. It was never special. It was always a mass-produced object I had made meaningful only in my mind. And I never questioned it. Because I didn’t want to. I liked when I was that lady who saved the freaking day for that shop owner. That context made my belief mighty comfortable.
Discovering how context is everything = waking
So, I didn’t learn this lesson in Hawaii. I learned it today. I spent twenty years inside appearance. And today, I bumped into reality. I woke up. That’s the power of context. It doesn’t just inform us. It builds worlds we live inside.
It makes certain beliefs feel natural. Certain stories feel comfortable. Certain assumptions feel true. Until suddenly, the story’s stripped of my illusions. The mask is off. The lights are on. The music stops. And I’m alone with the fool in the mirror.
We like to think we’re rational. Instead, we’re narrative creatures. Meaning makers. We make decisions inside emotional ecosystems. We respond to atmosphere, timing, identity, and story more than to facts. That’s why the same choice can feel brilliant in one context and absurd in another. Not because we’re stupid (OK, maybe a little sometimes). But mostly because inside that context, it makes sense.
The most powerful move in life isn’t confidence. It’s pause. Pause long enough to ask:
What story am I inside right now?
What do I want this to mean about me?
What am I assuming is true because it feels good?
What would this look like outside this context?
That pause is where clarity lives. It’s where we discern the difference between appearance and reality. When we face the fact that context is everything in our least conscious moments, we gain consciousness. That’s where good choices begin.
I still love my Buddha. I’m not getting rid of it. It holds motherhood. Travel. Beginnings. Believing. Now it also holds wisdom. About how easy it is to confuse meaning with reality. How long a good story can last. How context shapes everything. Including what we think is valuable.
Yes. The featured picture of this article is my buddha head; still hanging in my living room. She’s shiny. She’s lovely. And for some reason I think of her as “she” now.
Can’t get enough info about this topic? Click this wonderful article about how Context is Everything from The Atlantic Monthly
