JOYFUL PIECE #9

Joy is to see without an agenda, open to what life offers in this unique and never to be repeated instant.

Esther de Waal writes “…looking means that you already have something in mind for your eye to find; you’ve set out in search of your desired object and have closed off everything else presenting itself along the way. But seeing is being open and receptive to what comes to the eye….“ in reference to Ron Seitz, Song for Nobody: A Memory Vision of Thomas Merton (Liguori, MO: Triumph Books, 1995). I stumbled on that gem of a quote within A Contemplative Heart, a meditation from CAC.org.

Getting up from my chair I venture outside into the heat. Turning my gaze to the right this is what I see:

There, a red sign, in the center of my field of view, says: STOP! And I heed the advice and stand still, and see, and hear, and feel. Each impression is like a revelation that there is more going on that I perceive through busy eyes. I see and appreciate the haze in the distance, the ridge line with scattered homes along its top. There is much to see everywhere, and listen to, and feel. There is song that escapes the din of civilization. There is sensuality in this hot August day as the hot soft breeze caresses my arms.

To my left the old oak…

Experience of innumerable seasons shows in its corrugated bark, just as my skin has been documenting my seasons in scars and wrinkles and spots and vanishing hair. And a very small shelf mushroom clings to the bark. It is dried out and gives testimony to its original hope for survival in a Texas heat that does not grant mercy. Movement to my left reveals a lizard on the trunk, out for a snack to slake thirst and placate hunger.

A further turn left and I catch the flaking paint on the fire hydrant, another effort at preservation, at conserving something that just could not stand the reality of the environment and the march of time.

I hear a birdsong as a tiny wren lands on a bistro chair. I had seen them innumerable times yet never appreciated the beauty of the melody gifted in its song.

Further on I see oak branches exuberantly expressing their beauty as well as their joy in being alive.

Below, on the stone fence, another lizard that has turned green, creeps along the top of the fence in spurts of two or three steps, pausing to show off its crimson cravat, its head bobbing in the distinctive lizardly way.

I am joyful and grateful for these simple images that have always been there and for the opening quote that led me to just be and see. Joy is to see without an agenda, open to what life offers in this unique and never to be repeated instant.

Where do you find joy?