Dogwood blossom on a misty day. I stopped to take this photo on my way home from the hardware store to buy soil for our garden. I could have driven by with nothing more than a moments thought. Instead, I pulled over to admire the blossoms.
Beauty is everywhere
Baudelaire
Even the worm is beautiful
The thread of a beggar's dress
The red eye of a drunkard
On a rainy night
Chasing the red-haired girl
Baudelaire
Across the sky
Your raggy pants
Laughing at the rain new line beauty is everywhere
Baudelaire
– Jack Michelin
I didn't always have an eye for finding beauty in odd places. I didn't always notice the tiny delights all around me. For more than 30 years I careened through my days, lost in my inner world, giving no thought to random treasures I might be missing.
It was my husband who gave me that boundless gift. I can't imagine my life without it, now. He still notices things that I do not.
How often does he point out a caterpillar, or call me outside to marvel at the swirling mist, as it slides down our roof and across the drive? These moments are among my favorite, in a lifetime of wonder.
On a meandering walk around Portland within a few months of meeting, he found a cedar rose and gave it to me, presenting it as a precious offering. I still smile every time I see it.
15 years together has opened my eyes to hidden beauty everywhere. Look up, look down, turn in a circle. It's somewhere within view. I often find it in tiny details outside...fungus on a branch, a cluster of acorns on a mossy rock, intertwined trees…
Just as frequently, I find it in rust, decay, and muck. Recently, I was riveted by the beauty of the goop left over from an oil change on my husband's bike. It reminded me of the surface of Jupiter. I couldn't stop staring.
If you are afraid that you just don't have a knack for finding beauty, I'm here to tell you that it only takes opening your eyes and a willingness to set aside judgments about where it does and does not reside.
In this blog, I am inviting you on a perpetual journey, with no beginning and no end, that can be picked up anytime, no matter how often you are distracted from it, or how little time you have to devote to it.
This week's invitation:
Go outside if possible, or just look around the room you are in. Don't forget to look above you and down
at the ground or floor.
Photograph, draw, paint, or write about what you see...some small detail you might never have noticed.
(Or write a song, or do an interpretive dance!) I would love to see or hear it!
Use the hashtag #seektinydelights and tag me on Instagram or Facebook @thekimfluence so we can
all be inspired by what you find!
On my mind:
I was listening to my new favorite podcast (A Beautiful Anarchy, with David duChemin) this morning. This week, he was offering his thoughts on making art that touches the heart. This, to me, is the key to reaching others with your creative pursuits. It’s not how well you wield your tools (though honing your skill certainly helps). It’s how much of yourself you are willing to share, how far into your world, your mind, your soul you are willing to allow others access.
Over the weekend, I shared my blog related struggles with my dear friend and mentor, Stacy Vajta. Namely, that I enjoy writing longhand, in my journal, far more than composing posts on the keyboard. But that I also absolutely loathe transcribing. (I never learned to type well without looking at the keyboard, so it takes forever.) And that I’ve tried a dozen different dictation apps, but none seem to understand my southern accent. (Is it really that deep?) She suggested I try the dictation function on Google Docs, so I gave it a shot, expecting to be disappointed. But, ya’ll...it worked! Now I can write my posts in my journal, sitting on the porch, sipping tea, then effortlessly get them onto the computer to share with you! Squeeeeee!
Tensions are running high right now. If we can all do our very best to see past bristly behavior, to the pain and worry underneath, and to respond with compassion, our days will be far more bearable, than if we allow our knee jerk reactions to take over. I’m writing this to myself, as much as to you. May all of our days be a little easier with this practice.