Loss of Awe

I lay in Wanda the other morning staring out the back window at the treetops that loom above my RV home. While I wasn't ignoring them, it dawned on me that I had lost a sense of awe I had when I first moved there. As soon as I realized I was taking for granted those deep green leaves attached to the wandering arms the old oak tree that stands at the back of my space and outlined against a pearly, aqua blue sky, I snapped out of it.

I saw again what I had seen the first time, incredible beauty there for me everyday of my ordinary life. There is a quote from Albert Einstein that seems so appropriate for what I'm trying to get at:

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." --A. Einstein

And isn't this true? It is so easy to lose our sense of wonder at the things we are surrounded by, because we experience them every day. They become commonplace to us. But they are anything but commonplace.

I visit my parents home about once a month now. When I could get there very rarely I would breathe deeply and feel a profound relaxation come over me. Now that I've been there about ten times since arriving in California, I realized the other day that I don't do that anymore.

Nothing has changed about the location, only my own desensitization has affected my outlook. I forgot to notice how wonderful the place is. By the way, that's a picture of their front yard. Looking out over BLM land from their backyard deck is even better. The turkeys and deer that wander across it every day think so too apparently.

So, I've vowed to try to incorporate a moment in each of my days to "stop and smell the roses," because really that's what life is all about.

It doesn't have to be the outdoors either. Perhaps, it's savoring the taste of that marvelous wine or appreciating the tinkling laughter of a child we pass in the mall or the smile of someone we love that we've seen everyday and don't realize how much we'll miss when they're not around. It's all the little things I am given every moment that I want to relish while I can.

Join me?