Last weekend I found myself sitting in Tulovana, OR watching the tide come in. A group of pelicans flew across the water at sunset. Some things just cause you to stop in your tracks if you are open to notice them.
That same day I watched my niece throw a frisbee for the first time. She was terrible, but the laughter was perfect.
I watched her parents and her grandparents light up at Madison's giggling. I saw them look at her with such pride over so little a thing. But if you saw little Maddy in the hospital over the first two years of her life, this small game of frisbee was nothing short of winning the superbowl ala Rothlisberger/Santana Moss last minute TD on the tiptoes...amazing.
Since my past post, I have been engaged in quite a few conversations about this subject. About beauty. About processing it. About not seeing it. About being humbled by it, about not understand what I am talking about. About wishing they got it. I have been all of those things.
To be honest I am in a living process of discovery on this subject. And the process or probably more accurate, the awareness of Beauty, is a wonderful thing.
All those things I wrote at the start of this post are wonderful, and the more you stop to realize it, your heart just bursts with it.
I spent this morning walking alone through the streets of Tokyo with what I like to think is the perfect soundtrack, "Life in Technicolor" by Coldplay playing in my ears. Things seemed rich to me, like a good wine. Depth, pleasing, crave-inducing, unreal. Beautiful. What a process.
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