
The little monkey is lost. He can’t find his mum. In his distress, he meets a butterfly who offers to help. “Come, little monkey, come, come, come. I’ll help you find your mum,” the butterfly assures him. It’s a kind and generous offer. But there’s a problem. Every time the monkey describes his mother—”She’s big! She’s got a tail!”—the butterfly takes him to an entirely wrong animal. An elephant, a snake, a bat. Each mistake frustrates the monkey further. “No, no, no! That’s not my mum!”
The butterfly, of course, isn’t being unhelpful on purpose. She’s doing her best. But her best is shaped by her own experience—by her own worldview. When she realizes that the monkey’s mum just like him she responds:
“I didn’t know. I couldn’t! You see… none of my babies look like me.”
And therein lies the puzzle: she is seeing the little monkey’s puzzle through her own eyes rather than his.
The Assumption That Our Worldview is Universal
In sociology, there’s a concept called ethnocentrism—the tendency to judge other cultures by the standards of our own. It’s a deeply ingrained instinct, one that starts early. We grow up learning a particular way of seeing the world, a framework built by our family, community, and culture. And because this is all we know, we assume it’s how everyone else thinks too.
The butterfly’s mistake in Monkey Puzzle is innocent, but in real life, this assumption can create walls between people. A child raised in a culture where obedience is a primary virtue might struggle to understand a peer raised to question authority. A person from an individualistic society may view family obligations differently than someone from a collectivist one. A theologian might find it baffling that a scientist approaches truth differently. And so, like the monkey and the butterfly, we often talk past each other.
The Frustration of Being Misunderstood
If you’ve ever had a conversation where someone completely misunderstood you, you know the frustration of the little monkey. You explain, again and again, but they don’t seem to get it. And when people don’t understand us, we feel unseen. Unheard. Alone.
Misunderstanding isn’t just about words—it’s about the lenses through which we interpret life. The way we define success, the way we express emotions, the way we navigate relationships—all of it is shaped by cultural and personal worldviews. And when those worldviews clash, it’s easier to become defensive than to pause and ask: What if we’re just seeing things differently?
The Bible offers a profound antidote to this frustration: “Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.” It’s a verse about patience, but it’s also about posture. To listen first is to recognize that another person’s perspective is valid, even if it’s different from ours. It’s to pause before assuming we know what they mean. It’s to step outside of our own frame and ask, What do they actually see?
The Wisdom of Seeing Through Another’s Eyes
The turning point in Monkey Puzzle comes when the butterfly stops assuming and starts listening. The monkey, in exasperation, finally reveals something crucial: “My mum looks just like me!” The butterfly has a realization—of course! She was looking through her own experience instead of his. Unlike her babies, monkey babies look a lot like their mums.
It’s a small but powerful shift. Instead of trying to make sense of the monkey’s world through her own eyes, she steps into his. And suddenly, everything becomes clear.
The sociologist Clifford Geertz spoke about thick description—the idea that to truly understand a person’s actions, we must understand their context. It’s not enough to describe what they do; we need to know why. This requires patience, curiosity, and the willingness to temporarily set aside our assumptions.
Imagine if we applied this in our daily lives. What if, instead of rushing to correct someone, we first sought to understand why they think the way they do? What if we were more like anthropologists in our conversations, asking questions rather than forming quick judgments? What if, before insisting that our view is correct, we first considered the possibility that there’s another valid way of seeing? What if, before trying to make our view understood, we tried to first understand theirs.
Finding Our Way Home
At the end of the story, the monkey is finally reunited with his mother. Relief floods the pages. The lost is found. Understanding is restored. But the lesson remains: if we want to truly help others, if we want to build real relationships, we must learn to see through their eyes.
The world is filled with monkeys and butterflies—people trying to communicate across different perspectives, different cultures, different experiences. And more often than not, we assume that everyone’s world is shaped like ours. But wisdom, as James reminds us, begins with listening.
Before we seek to be understood, we must first seek to understand. Before we offer our solutions, we must ask better questions. And before we assume we know someone’s story, we must take the time to truly hear it.
Because in the end, we are all searching for something—belonging, connection, home. And sometimes, all it takes to find our way is the willingness to see through another’s eyes.
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Written by Joshua George