Are there times in your life when you really slow down and look at the beauty in this world? You know, watching snow covered tree branches finally getting enough warmth to shed its winter coat, or the excitement of the insect world as they discover the open petals of spring plants. They busily move from one blossom to the other to investigate what secrets can be found. Do you hear the sigh of relief from the parched ground as it receives a long overdue rain drop? Do you smell the fresh washed air after a fall rain shower? Do you stop to listen to the silence when it is offered? Do you try to catch sight of a distant bird that chirps some happy tune to itself or perhaps its mate? Can you hear the sheer joy of its much practiced warbled song?
There are more times than not in my life that the sounds and wonders of this world are ignored rather than enjoyed. I get caught up in important, and often unimportant, events in my life that wouldn’t offer my soul and spirit a chance to cleanse itself. If I took just a few minutes each day to view the world as it really was, it is an offering of a fresh view of life. This feeling wouldn’t last for a long time but just the experience was often sufficient.
Let me share a short story and an instance of the awareness of life.
When I was much younger than I am now, struggling to make ends meet, keeping my bosses happy, and trying to provide properly for my family, I would occasionally head to the expansive Gibson Park. I tried to make this visit on a regular basis as part of my new plan to center myself. You see, I found this self-help book at the store. It had a twelve point plan to change my life. The park, or somewhere serene, was point three.
I found myself sitting on a park bench where I could view a vast grassy area that bordered a children’s play area. About twenty feet in front of me were two little children at play. You would think by the size and look of each child that they may be twins. A little boy and girl dressed similarly with haircuts that matched. They both had a cherubic rosy healthy complexion.
Their mother sat on the other end of the bench engrossed in some book of the month that Oprah or some close friend had probably recommended. It was a beautifully bound hard back book. I preferred to get the discount book stores when they had ten cent sales. I wasn’t that particular about titles or authors or ratings. I could start a story and if it wasn’t to my liking I would toss the book, and grab another. They were dog eared, discolored, and shop worn but the words were still there.
“Mommy, Jael wants to sit on the grass. Is that alright?” the little boy asked.
Better to ask than to get into trouble later on, but who knew whose idea it really was. Smart kids.
“Just don’t get in the mud puddles by the swings, okay Joel?” They got approval from Mom.
I watched with interest as the two little ones hunched down to look at something that caught their eye. Their heads were close together and they whispered some important information to each other. Perhaps they spotted a bug or a worm that had lost its way. A small of patch of dandelions spread around them.
My mind was at rest and I consciously realized I was enjoying moments where the committee of the brain was on coffee break. I reveled in that moment.
Suddenly I heard squeals from the two intrepid explorers. They were running around in circles on those chubby little legs, waving their arms and laughing with pleasure. I could see they were playing some kind of tag with a beautiful Monarch butterfly. It appeared the butterfly was enjoying the attention for a period of time but got tired of the game and flew off to parts unknown.
One of the children looked in our direction and yelled at nobody in particular.
“We saw a butterfly and I flew right by us!”
“That’s nice”, their mother said, as she flipped to the book’s next page.
Soon I was mesmerized by the actions of the two, who seemingly had not a care in the world. They marveled at every little thing as it was investigated. It wasn’t long before the dandelions became their point of attention. I watched as they inspected each yellow plant and started to pick them, as every little person might. They measured the length of the stem and somehow determined if they weren’t the same size quickly were discarded. I watched as each child divided their bouquet equally between them and examined each one with great scrutiny.
I was quite taken by their antics and was in a peaceful mood. Their adventures had become my Zen.
They came racing over to the bench and stood in front of me.
“Look Daddy, look what we found.” Joel squealed.
“Aren’t they pretty?” his sister added.
“They are absolutely beautiful, my babies, absolutely beautiful!”
There are times in your life you need to slow down and look at the beauty of the world. This was one of those times.
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