The Window Seat, as a metaphor, is a perspective. You’re sitting behind a piece of glass, in a tubular prison from which you cannot communicate with the outside world (Okay, so they’re rolling out wifi on planes, but let’s ignore that for now), gazing down at cities filled with bustling ants. Minus the cylindrical fuselage, the Window Seat can also be in a coffee shop, far away from home, and the window is your laptop monitor, through which you observe your world, digitally. This drastic change in perspective can raise more questions than it answers. What really matters? What’s your motivation? Does everything look the same when you step back thousands of feet or miles and view it from an outsider’s perspective? Things can become surprisingly clear when viewed from a distant Window Seat.