All love goes beyond words. Some of it’s so deep you can’t even think it, only feel it in your heart. And then there’s the love that’s made of al the bits and crumbs of love there ever was. Why, it’s so big that all it can do is paint itself all over everything, right before your very eyes.
Sometimes I want to roll up my sleeves, step on into it and hurl things, wailing in anguish and outrage. I take note, you see, of what’s going on.
But it’s like the lyrics from that ‘60’s era tune, either Moody Blues or the Beatles, maybe you’ll know: “Someone exploded a bomb today, but it wasn’t anybody I knew.”
Another bomb? Too bad; so sad. I take note and tuck it away. The creek beckons. Trees are waiting to be heard. Go now. Gifts await. It will keep you sane. And I did. And it does.
But as I said, I take note of what’s going on. And from time to time I look beneath the surface and am astonished at how vile evil can be, what a cold and twisted thing . Then I remember the creek. And the trees. And I am saved.
Finding themselves on rocky ground, surrounded by the broken and the fallen, in a place where the sun can find only brief and narrow openings, some spirits nonetheless thrive, rejecting excuses for failing, choosing instead to laugh and stand tall, to shine their light, to blossom in love, to sing the Yes of the infinite song and live free. If you chance to see them, let your heart applaud.
One by one, the leaves decide. Who will go first? Who will hold on? Who will be the last to go? Already some could not resist the chance to ride the wind and fly, free of all restraints, to sail birdlike on the wings of air. Most waited, savoring the familiar view, savoring its changes. Neither choice was right or wrong. Time would tell them when to fly. And time, the creek told them, has its way of doing things in exactly the perfect order.
A turn of the calendar’s page, and here’s September, come to bridge the seasons, to provide a pathway into fall. The green of the trees still sings of summer, but the first of autumn’s leaves have begun to tumble down, to gather at the edges of streams and roadways. It happens like that, gradually, so that you hardly notice. Beneath the bridge, time’s stream flows endlessly on.
A flicker of tan caught my eye and, expecting a butterfly, I glanced toward the window. “Oh! A deer!” I said aloud, surprised as a graceful fawn ambled into view, then paused, surveying the scene, listening, every muscle in its body ready to bound away. A Sunday messenger, come as an unexpected guest, so welcome a sight for these world-weary eyes, refreshing them, reminding me the world still holds the wild and free.
“Certain colors are beautiful together; other colors aren’t.” That’s what she said, standing before her freshman class of art students. I remember finding that a curious thing to say. “Take, for instance,” she continued, “pink and orange. Each has its own fine qualities, but never, when combined, can they be considered beautiful.” The students took notes. I started drawing doodles, tuned her out, fell into dreams. I thought of her today as I came upon the wildflowers. I laughed. Tell it to the bees, I thought. Clearly, I was not the only one who didn’t listen.
I looked at my list of tasks as my friend and I entered the store. Shopping for groceries was only our first stop of several. I was mentally planning our itinerary when my friend suddenly stopped one step into the produce section.
“Look,” she said waving her hand to encompass the whole scene. “Everything we need to live is here.”
Her comment shot me back into the moment. In the center of the floor stood several large tables brimming with colorful produce. On one, tomatoes and onions, shiny bell peppers, ruffled heads of lettuce and ears of sweet corn. On another, bunches of red and green grapes and peaches, apples and pears. Each table’s contents were arranged with artful care. On lighted shelves behind them relishes and cheeses, specialty items, salads and drinks beckoned.
“I love the way you notice things like that,” I told my friend. She has a real knack for appreciation, one of the choices for happiness we all can make.
The key is noticing what you value.
She notices how things are designed, how they work. She goes through the world with an appreciative heart, and points out the cleverness of a tool’s design, the quality of materials, the efficiency or kindness of someone’s act, and says so.
Happy people are like that. They look for things to value in the present moment. That’s a key: Looking for what’s valuable right now, in the immediate present. What’s good here? What’s true? What’s beautiful? What’s alive in me right now?
Embracing the Contrasts
One way to do this is to look at your life as if it’s a movie, and the present moment is the movie’s current scene.
It may not be a pleasant one; it might be a tragedy or drama. But you can still appreciate it as a scene in your unique life—being fully conscious of what’s occurring, fully aware of what you’re experiencing and embracing it as a part of the totality of your life.
Genuinely happy people don’t deny life’s sorrows and disappointments. They appreciate the reality of them and experience their meaning and depths. But they equally embrace life’s delights and moments of beauty and goodness.
They’re aware of the contrasts that make up life’s diversity, and of the way the contrasts contribute to life’s richness and mystery.
Because of their total immersion in their lives, happy people learn that no experience is wholly good or wholly bad. It’s all a mix. And all of it contains something to be appreciated once you choose to see it.
Sharing the Good Stuff
Happy people actively look for things to appreciate in others and they share their appreciation in words. They let others know when they see their good qualities in action—their humor, their kindness, their courage, their creativity.
Sometimes they appreciate how well someone deals with their struggles and fears. And because they share what they appreciate in others, they build stronger relationships—in their workplaces, with their children, with their partners, and with friends.
They even disarm their adversaries by expressing sincere appreciation of their strengths. “Well done!” “Good move!”
They brighten the day for strangers by mentioning something the other has done well. “That was so kind of you!” “You packed that so efficiently!”
You never know when a simple comment will entirely change someone’s day.
As poet Elizabeth Barret Browning said, “Earth’s crammed with heaven.” Turn up your sense of appreciation this week and prove for yourself the truth in her words. You might just find your world transformed.
From out of the darkness golden petals burst forth, fiery-rayed blossoms that sing of the power of the sun. Blazing life, brimming with joy, dancing to the song of the ever-revealing Yes.
A seed here, a breeze there, some sun, some rain, the tilt of a tiny blue planet as it races around its star. Who would think mere happenstance could produce this harmony, this beauty! Yet here it is, before our eyes: Balance, a grace of design, an artful juxtaposition of varied hues and forms. Nothing is out of place. Nothing’s missing. Explain it as you will; the beauty remains and surpasses all the theories. The heart understands things that words can never tell.