The garden has always been a place of peace for me. A sanctuary. A place…
To “look”, I engage my eyes.
To “see”, I ask my eyes to join hands with my heart, mind and soul.
I have the gift of vision which gives me the ability to “look”.
But, unfortunately, I don’t always “see”.
Certainly pleasure can be obtained from looking. But seeing turns that pleasure into an experience, often making clear the presence of the Divine.
“Looking” sees a rock as grey.
“Seeing” observes in that rock the unexpected painter’s palette of lavenders, blues, golds and greens.
“Looking” sees a bare tree on a winter’s day, standing lonely. Quietly waiting for its beauty to return with the first sign of spring.
“Seeing” realizes that beauty remains in each tree’s unique, intricately designed architecture, silhouetted starkly against a mottled grey sky.
Seeing might take a moment. To be present. To be aware.
And that’s where the problem often lies for me.
Life is busy. In that busyness I forget. So I look. But do not see.
When I “see”, I’m more likely to live in a state of awe and gratitude.
I’m aware of the magnificent world just outside my door. Full of wonder. A miracle at every turn.
I recall the many reasons I married my wife.
I see a human, a being, inside the ragged clothes, at the corner, holding a cardboard sign.
I am less likely to focus so greatly on myself.
Which opens my eyes. Makes me aware.
Then I can turn my eyes to a whole new world that awaits me in this very spot I have been for many years.
If I just breathe.