Shining Spirit

Sometimes beauty is right there and we don’t see it. Oh, but when we do!
Which is the prettier? The Stone? The Butterfly?
Both?
Today you will be surrounded by beautiful things and experiences.
You might not see them unless you deliberately look.
So, go on a “Beauty Hunt” sometime today.
What do you see, hear, remember
that reveals Creation’s
beauty?

If it doesn’t challenge you,

it won’t change you.

I don’t know who said it. Whoever, I like that thinking. Sure fits my life. Yours?

Optimism is the child of Gratitude.

So much goes wrong, not the way I
expected or wanted. I live in a world
of rapid words, breathless words, words
that fly through the air like machine gun
bullets, words that murder my mind and
feed the darkness.

Optimism is the child of Gratitude.

I forget that I just flipped a switch and
created light, that my fingers race over
a machine capable of producing words that
instantly fly around the world, that the
bougainvillea’s delight-filled red blossoms
wait in the darkness, that my rumpled bed
was warm and the face in the gold frame is
the image of love that has withstood my best
and my worst for sixty years.

Optimism is the child of Gratitude.

When the last period is placed at the end of the
last sentence on this page, I will close my eyes,
a long blink, and when I open them, I will enter
the world of intentional gratitude. From the last
star visible in the fading night sky to the little
green plant I mindlessly water every day, I will
begin a journey of gratitude. And I will walk the
ever-broadening pathway that has no end.

Optimism is the child of Gratitude.
And I will be born again into a new world.

I have a friend who says he is losing his sight…regular sight, common sight. That kind of sight, he told me, is being replaced by another form of seeing. More and more he sees the world metaphorically. He describes himself as a Metaphorologist. The tree in the photo, for instance. It wouldn’t win first prize for beauty, but it is a living illustration of life. A metaphor. Some days he doesn’t know which way to go. This way, that way, standing tall, bending low. Kind of like that Bible story about the man who called himself “Legion” because there were so many different forms of himself enclosed in his one body. This tree is like that. We should name it a Legion Tree. The man in the story wanted to be freed of the many inside. My friend, on the other hand, wants a PhD in Metaphorology. Seeing through metaphorical glasses magnifies the moment and the messenger. At least that’s what he thinks. Seems that everywhere he looks there is a burning bush. If you happen to know of a University that specializes in Metaphorology, will you let me know. I’ll pass the information on to him. He’ll enroll tomorrow.

I looked up at just the right moment. The sky was on fire. I grabbed my camera, and still in my pajamas, ran to the middle of the street and started shooting photos. No neighbors out, thank goodness. Five minutes before I saw it, it wasn’t there. Five minutes after I saw it, it was gone. Beauty visited for only a few moments, but it was astonishing. That little taste will serve me through this day. I wonder what’s next on the agenda of amazement…

Be on the lookout!