I’ve always felt a strong connection to nature. To this day, my heart sings at the sound of rushing water or raindrops trickling down window panes. A simple morning sun ray as the earth awakens from her slumber can put a smile on my face before my eyes open to its warmth.
To this day, my heart sings at the sound of rushing water or raindrops trickling down window panes.
I marvel at how beauty of this kind can have such a profound effect on the harmony we feel with one another, with ourselves, and with the world.
The natural world grounds me: the moisture of the soil, the sweet smells of summer blooms, the intricate web so carefully constructed, visible only to those who stop to pay attention.
A delicate dance
Nature’s wonders have an uncanny ability to remind me of life’s paradoxes: complexity and simplicity, birth and decay, patience and haste, all working harmoniously. They remind me of my smallness, and my importance. They ease my mind of its suffering, because it’s difficult to hold both wonder and worry. They bring an aliveness to my being, a union of air and soul.
They bring an aliveness to my being, a union of air and soul.
It’s a delicate dance, to witness the world around us as it unfolds. Seasons warp our sense of time, as leaves seem to turn overnight, and spring flowers are forgotten as summer’s produce competes for garden space. But it’s the daily life cycles, the monotonous melodies that we so often take for granted, that keep us going.
Beauty is where you find it
You may call it mindfulness, or living in the moment. You may be struck by the delicate rhythms around you only after a tragedy alerts you to their importance. While the language may vary, the meaning does not: beauty is where you find it.
It’s not hiding in another calendar month, or expensive vacation. It’s not accessible to a select few or available only on your good days. It’s as easy, and as hard, as finding it where you are.
An exchange, no matter how brief can bring it. So can witnessing the kindness of a stranger, falling leaves, and first steps.
Find something that makes you say “Thank you”. Find it today, tomorrow, and on the hard days. Those are the days that it will be hardest to absorb, but when your roots most need it. Find it on your easy days, when you’re too wrapped up in the big picture to notice its presence.
Find something that makes you say “Thank you”.
Find it for those who can’t find it for themselves. And when you capture it, remember it; before the seasons change, before you wonder where the days have gone.