Tag: beauty

Sounds of Silence

As we get older, our lives often get quieter. Perhaps at times, even silent. What do we believe about the silence that can surround us during this season?

“Hello darkness my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again.” Hauntingly captivating or painfully paralyzing.

When we are younger, silence is often a welcome respite. I remember, raising five children, the times that I found myself alone in my home. I wouldn’t turn on music or do anything that might disturb that glorious sound of nothing.

But today, silence is often a reminder that retreating is no longer necessary. We may even be tempted to run from it, turning on music or picking up our phones. Perhaps we need to look at the quiet and get brave enough to sit with it. The question I try to answer these days is: What is silence holding in her hands? At this season in life, silence still offers us gifts.

1. One of the most important gifts that silence offers us is the space to craft a different narrative, one that will reorient our perspective and point our minds in a more purposeful and hopeful direction. We get influenced all day long by social media, news, family, drama of all types. We can get a sense of heaviness, not realizing how we even go there. It’s good to stop, identify our thoughts, and refocus where necessary.

2. Silence also offers us space to listen to our own heart beat, a heart that we can hear be full of gratitude for another day to lead our bodies in life. We allow (and sometimes force) gratitude to have the loudest voice.

3. Finally, and possibly most important, is the space to connect with God, or Love, or whatever it is that’s bigger than us. Because if we’re the measure of all that there is, our story will consume us. It was never meant to be our yardstick for measuring joy or happiness or contentment. So we stop to breathe deeply, meditate on all that is beautiful, pray. We change perspective.

Silence allows us to hear the deep longing of our own hearts. It’s centering, painful, and hopeful all at once.

I am learning to not only accept the hauntingly captivating beauty of silence; I am learning to embrace her hallowed space. Noise often cobbles together a storyline that’s less than encouraging. Silence allows us to identify the lies we hold about ourselves, especially relative to aging, and craft a story that’s more hopeful. We need that story and so do the people we touch everyday.

“Hello darkness my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again.” There’s a lot she has to share with us.

It Came to Pass

If we could peek behind the air we breathe, we could see a kind of trickery taking place. It is luring us into believing that life will always be just as it is today.

We often see the daily routineness of our day as “it came to stay.” When we’re parenting young children, when we’re in school, when we’re in a challenging season, even when all is well, we think we’ll always be doing the things we’re doing today.

But as we get older, we look back on those times and know that, truly, they never meant to stay. When did they grow up, where did all those classes go, how did I reach retirement age?

It doesn’t change simply because we get older. Even though we know better, we can still see our routines as something that will always be. We still need to be reminded to look behind the scene and spot the deception.

This past weekend was challenging in a very common way. It was cold, windy, and rainy. The forecast was more of the same for the next 10 days. I was struggling. Then I thought, 10 years from now, I would probably give anything to live this cold rainy day again at the age I am today. So I remind myself to enjoy this present life, the common everyday rainy life I have today.

May we remember that this day—with all the routine and challenge it may hold—comes to pass us by. I want to breathe it in, consume all the air my lungs can hold, and live everything in front of me. Ten years is a blip.

The screenshot of today’s speeding-past-us image may be a little blurry, but let’s get a glimpse of the beauty it holds. Even if we have to squint to see it. As Seals and Croft reminded us in the 70s, “We will never pass this way again.”

Despite all that may be going on, there is something we can appreciate. Even if it’s just with one small smile.

To Be Still

Noise is everywhere. It’s in front of us on our phones, it’s in the background on TV, it’s the constant broadcasting of news, it’s in our heads. Much of the time, it is by choice. Some of the time, we aren’t even aware. Silence is elusive, even when we’re alone.

There is a psalm that begins with, Be still and know. Can we hear our souls begging us to be still? We wonder why our nervous systems are always amped up. We read the warnings about our obsession with social media. But it’s hard to heed the warnings. Because silence scares us.

When dawn is about to break, there is an overwhelming silence around us. The light begins to appear and then the sunrise, and then the quiet beauty of that moment. Can we show up and simply take it in? Often we want to “document” the beauty and so we grab our cameras hoping we can catch a true impression.

When I was staying in Palm Springs, I was able to see the sunrise every morning. On mornings where it was very dramatic, I would walk outside to get a picture. It’s normal to want to take pictures. We want to revisit the moments; we want to share the impression with others.

But what about the impression it longs to leave on our soul?  Dawn comes and goes quickly, and the pictures never quite bring us back to that moment. But the sunrise stamps us every single time.

If beauty is everywhere, I want to show up and leave myself vulnerable to its impression. Noise blocks all that. It’s the beautiful versus the ugly, the stirring versus the settling, the peace versus the agitation.

Every time we witness beauty, every time we wish we had our camera, every time we can’t find words to describe what we saw or felt…let’s consider that maybe it was more about our souls being stamped than it was about being able to show and tell.

Showing up for beauty may start with just one minute of stillness. But it’s a good place to start. Taking a moment to be still and acknowledge the beautiful parts of our day is what’s most helpful in quieting noise, especially the noise in our heads.

On Vulnerability

On the surface, vulnerability seems paradoxical. As we get brave enough to share our innermost thoughts and emotions, we often expose the weakness we have tried to hide.  

When we’re younger, we usually protect ourselves with some kind of “armor.” As we’re building relationships, careers, and personalities, we are careful about what we allow others to see. We’re building our lives and protecting our foundations.

But as we get older, we find armor gets heavy. So we begin leaning into vulnerability, which exposes those parts of ourselves that we have protected. Vulnerability takes our weakness, infuses it with courage, and ultimately reveals strength. It’s not always easy to do.

Whether it’s in conversation or on social media, sometimes our picture needs to show the rain, not just the rainbow. No one wants to see the rain day after day, but only showing rainbows is pretentious. The fullness of beauty is about the many facets of life bumping up against each other continually. The good, the bad, and the ugly all at the same time. 

Vulnerability lets people know they are not alone, particularly in their bad and ugly. We can all fall victim to comparison, and when others are continually showing the good, we often fall short. We know our lives contain so much more. And by more, we generally mean less. Less rainbow, less sunshine, less charm. What is wrong with my life?

But when someone offers a glimpse into their struggle, we find a sigh. I am not alone. I’m not the only one with a bit of a mess in a world filled with perfect images. I think we’ve all experienced times when we learned we were not the only ones experiencing a particular situation or fear or sadness. And how we came away just little lighter.

The rain and the rainbow both exist in our lives. Wisdom dictates which one gets highlighted at a particular time. Only as we’re sensitive to the needs of others can we make that call. We are most alive when we take this simple act of vulnerability, wrapped in an unseen layer of courage and strength, and help others feel seen and not alone.

Maybe vulnerability is another word for love.

The Final Bloom: Or Is It?

So I bought my Christmas amaryllis early November. You heard the story. It didn’t bloom by that holiday, but it had a message for me. Bloom whenever the hell you want. No timetables, baby.

I had written that there is usually activity beneath the surface, but the eye just isn’t picking up on it. Suddenly the thing blooms and we are taken by surprise. It eventually dies back and we are grateful for the beautiful flower it brought forth.

But then, when we expect nothing at all, it blooms again. Well, I didn’t think you had another bloom in you, little guy. And there you go, showing us all that blooms happen even when we think there’s nothing left. This is the third time I’ve been surprised by him.

How many life lessons did that little bulb teach me? 

  1. We need to be patient and trust the process. Time is not our enemy.
  2. Just because the eye doesn’t pick up on activity doesn’t mean that none is taking place.
  3. There is a time for every purpose under heavens but usually we don’t get to choose that time;  that time chooses us.
  4. Maybe the one bloom isn’t the end of the story. Maybe it’s a series of blooms that pop over time when they’re ready. Just because we bloomed once doesn’t mean we’re done.

What we need is the hope that everything resting inside of us will pop when the time is right. We were designed in love to hold so much beauty deep within. I thought that little flower was done, but then I noticed  a little green sprout at the base. I kept it in the light to see if it had anything left. Once again, the amaryllis bloomed.  

I feel a connection with this little flower. We talk and laugh and tell each other we are awesome. I got a lot of bloom left in me. Maybe we’ll both be a little beautiful, loud, and out of place. A perfect, if not at all predictable, time for every purpose under heaven.

Drainage Ditches

Every day, we navigate between things that drain us and things that replenish us. Our health–both spiritual and physical–is contingent upon how much time we spend in each of those areas.

The big drainers are obvious: stress, sickness, sleepless nights, finances. We are usually aware when we are dealing with the big things. But, it’s those “daily concerns” that can get us. If we aren’t careful of how we manage those, we wind up drained, weary, and discouraged. If only those things came with a warning sign.

Well, actually, maybe they do. If we can get quiet, and focus on the present moment, our conscience will likely be warning us. Keep out of this ditch, it will whisper. We may be involved with talking negatively, thinking judgmentally, meditating on tomorrow’s problems, contemplating the “what ifs” of today, embracing the lies that parade as truth, self-focus, unforgiveness, excessive social media.

The bad and ugly come to drain us every day. But there are ways to stay out of drainage ditches. Mindfulness is one of the best ways to do this because it can open us up to our thoughts. 

I am learning to be still inside that I might observe my thoughts and, without judgment, gently replace them. I wish I could say I do this quickly every single time, but I am practicing and getting a little better at it.

We get more of what we focus on, so we want our thoughts focused on things that are good and beautiful and authentic. Those kinds of thoughts aren’t our go-to’s. Although we usually can’t control our circumstances, we can always choose our response.

It is in stillness that we will hear the words, “Keep Out. Drainage Ditch.” Kinda like a sign.

Beauty in the Broken

“There are days, or nights, or long stretches of weeks or months or even years, when breathing is the only prayer we’ve got.” A Holy Experience

I always knew there were long stretches of days, even weeks that required deep breathing. Only recently have I come to realize that those stretches can become years. And I have decided to be okay with that. Change isn’t going away.

Change is generally not our focus growing up. Even if we encounter something hard, there is so much going on that we move forward and adapt. But as we get older, change messes with us more regularly and we feel the changed spaces more intensely.

Before there were vulnerable conversations about well being, I used to feel guilty that I was in the midst of a breathing season maybe too long. Moving through a challenging season, I usually wanted to simply move on and get over it. And we have to do both to move forward. But that’s not the whole point.

Sometimes our very DNA is being changed and it takes time and trust for that to happen. All we can do is surrender and breathe our way through the transition. However long that takes. Whether we see it or not, we are being led to light.

First and foremost, we are spiritual beings. God—or whatever term best describes how we each see the force at work within and without—works in our darkness and silence to bring light and peace.

It helps to remember that love, resurrection, and transformation are at the core of most major religions, spiritual teachings, and the world around us. Every day we watch the steadfastness of the sun rising, the transformative power of rebirth in the seasons, and the metamorphosis of living things all around us.

What is broken gets transformed, healed, and made whole. Over and over again. So let’s breathe our way through this current season. Because even if we get to celebrate a victory, there is so much broken and hurting all around us.

So if breath is the only prayer we got, it’s ok. We are being led to mercy and light, where the mundane and the broken can become holy and whole.

Many of us practice expressing gratitude to counter negativity. A great addition would be searching out beauty and making that a daily habit. It’s pretty easy to stare at the ugly and the sad. But always always always there is something beautiful in the same scene.

Maybe we’ll have an opportunity to point someone towards beauty in the midst of their broken. Maybe that’s what angels do as they walk the earth. And perhaps, sometimes, they quietly inspire us to speak on their behalf.

Beauty in the Simple

Sometimes I can get discouraged by all the encouragement out there.

Every day, there is a pin or a post about never giving up, letting our dreams be bigger than our fears, never limiting our vision. And I picture all these people doing huge things and influencing thousands of people.

And I feel small. And sometimes question whether I have anything to offer that will matter. But then I remember her.
Beanie Lady

Every sunny day, this precious 90-something woman in a bright yellow coat and a beanie copter hat walked down a sidewalk by my house, plastic bag in hand. I would often see her standing, pointing to something not visible to my eye. Or picking up garbage. And I must admit, I thought she was a little, well, crazy. Until I met her.

One spring day I was out walking and saw her in the distance beckoning me to come. She was enthusiastically pointing at something, and I honestly didn’t see what she was pointing at. “It’s a leaf! It’s not just a bud, but it’s blossomed into a leaf. Isn’t that just beautiful!” This 90-year old woman who has seen the signs of spring for that many years was still struck by the beauty the season. And I would have missed it.

I stopped to chat with her the next time I passed her by on my walk. She was picking up garbage and putting it in that little plastic bag. “I love beauty so I go out and pick up the garbage I see on my walk. It helps this place look better.” I asked her if I could take her picture. She seemed shocked that I wanted her picture, but she smiled big and walked away happy. I walked away changed.

The next sunny day, I looked for her. And the time after that. Sadly, I never saw her again. She never knew the impact she had on my life. She appreciated beauty, noticed the little things, and did what she could with what she had. It’s really so simple. She taught me to look for the leaf amongst the buds, to have eyes that perceive beauty, and create more beauty wherever I happen to be. Simply, to do what I can with what I have.

I didn’t read that in a book, a pin, or a post. I learned it from a 90-year old woman picking up garbage in a beanie copter hat. She was truly a woman of perception, maybe even an angel with a sense of style.

Every beauty which is seen here by persons of perception
resembles more than anything else
that celestial source from which we all are come.
Michaelangelo