Setting the scene. How would you describe your world? No, not the external one, but the internal one? Have you ever given it much thought? Actually, whether or not you are aware of it, your internal world influences your external one!
Let me give you an example: you are in a cemetery and you see a lone figure sitting on the bench of a loved one. How do you view that? Does your mind automatically think, how sad? Might you be able to conjure up instead, how wonderful that even in perceived sadness, there is a moment of beauty and peace being shared?
I won’t venture to guess how anyone else’s mind works, I have my hands full with my own mind!!! But interestingly this morning as I was reading "Cross Roads" by Wm. Paul Young, he set a scene that more or less awakened me to the possibility of residing too long in darkness…by choice. I don’t want to give away too much of the book, I think it is a great one and it should be read by everyone. That said, he depicts in this particular scene three men, two of whom are Gardeners/wall keepers and the third man is the main character exploring his internal world. The internal world seems to be a heavily weeded place surrounded by great walls. As the two Gardeners approach the main character they announce to him their job descriptions. The main character is looking around and is astonished because all he sees are miles and miles of weeds. When he inquires to how they can be doing their job, one reaches out and pulls a rose complete with thorns and triumphantly exclaims, see, I just got one. The significance is in the perception. Because the rose was of color and different, the "Gardeners" seeing the difference in their "dark" minds establish the beautiful rose as a weed.
How prolific is that? Do we at times do the same thing? What colors are we missing because we choose to live in darkness, depression, maintaining walls around ourselves? In the middle of winter, when things seem bleak, do we notice that color still exists? I was just outside looking at the trees and I saw many shades of gray and I got excited. It is all in my perception but gray can also be beautiful, because it has depth.
In the midst of whatever is happening in one’s life, it all boils down to "our" choices. That statement might seem overly simplified. In a photography course I took this weekend, the instructor said that there will be a class on seeing color. Really, someone can instruct you to see color? He then also said, that once you are able to see color, your pictures become more than snapshots.
I have found that I’ve become good at a few things in life, but up to this point, everything has been captured as snapshots. I think God has finally made me aware that I need to see the beauty in the brilliant landscapes he has allowed in my life and to do this, the walls must come down and I need to do the weeding in my own garden, allowing for color.
Our world is beautiful, aged people likewise are beautiful. We fight to maintain our youth seeing wrinkles and gray hair as our enemies. I’m not of National Geographic caliber in my photography, but I truly appreciate the beauty captured in the pictures of older people, who have earned their wrinkles and gray hair. I see the beauty because I choose to look at age as a positive. The wrinkles like the tree bark tell me a story. It is about the journey and I’d rather spend my time rejoicing along the way instead of fighting against time.
Looking up!
Barb
Let me give you an example: you are in a cemetery and you see a lone figure sitting on the bench of a loved one. How do you view that? Does your mind automatically think, how sad? Might you be able to conjure up instead, how wonderful that even in perceived sadness, there is a moment of beauty and peace being shared?
I won’t venture to guess how anyone else’s mind works, I have my hands full with my own mind!!! But interestingly this morning as I was reading "Cross Roads" by Wm. Paul Young, he set a scene that more or less awakened me to the possibility of residing too long in darkness…by choice. I don’t want to give away too much of the book, I think it is a great one and it should be read by everyone. That said, he depicts in this particular scene three men, two of whom are Gardeners/wall keepers and the third man is the main character exploring his internal world. The internal world seems to be a heavily weeded place surrounded by great walls. As the two Gardeners approach the main character they announce to him their job descriptions. The main character is looking around and is astonished because all he sees are miles and miles of weeds. When he inquires to how they can be doing their job, one reaches out and pulls a rose complete with thorns and triumphantly exclaims, see, I just got one. The significance is in the perception. Because the rose was of color and different, the "Gardeners" seeing the difference in their "dark" minds establish the beautiful rose as a weed.
How prolific is that? Do we at times do the same thing? What colors are we missing because we choose to live in darkness, depression, maintaining walls around ourselves? In the middle of winter, when things seem bleak, do we notice that color still exists? I was just outside looking at the trees and I saw many shades of gray and I got excited. It is all in my perception but gray can also be beautiful, because it has depth.
In the midst of whatever is happening in one’s life, it all boils down to "our" choices. That statement might seem overly simplified. In a photography course I took this weekend, the instructor said that there will be a class on seeing color. Really, someone can instruct you to see color? He then also said, that once you are able to see color, your pictures become more than snapshots.
I have found that I’ve become good at a few things in life, but up to this point, everything has been captured as snapshots. I think God has finally made me aware that I need to see the beauty in the brilliant landscapes he has allowed in my life and to do this, the walls must come down and I need to do the weeding in my own garden, allowing for color.
Our world is beautiful, aged people likewise are beautiful. We fight to maintain our youth seeing wrinkles and gray hair as our enemies. I’m not of National Geographic caliber in my photography, but I truly appreciate the beauty captured in the pictures of older people, who have earned their wrinkles and gray hair. I see the beauty because I choose to look at age as a positive. The wrinkles like the tree bark tell me a story. It is about the journey and I’d rather spend my time rejoicing along the way instead of fighting against time.
Looking up!
Barb
