What Will You See?

Written 4/11/07
By Kelly Morrison

I’ve noticed that when traveling to new places I am especially enthralled visually to see so many new sights for the first time.

On a recent trip to Hawaii I took nearly 300 macro (super close-up) photos of plants and flowers and such. It seemed that every where I looked, my eyes beheld wonder and things I’d never seen before. I was tuned to the smallest detail and rejoiced in it, in awe of the infinite creativity of God. This nearly hyper-awareness seems to cause an unstoppable, organic response of gratitude. Little is taken for granted, because so much is actively noticed.

Years ago, I worked teaching students from Japan in the US for short-term home-stay programs. One of the things that I liked best about the job, is that by being with them as they experienced so many things for the first time, I saw my own world through new eyes. I vicariously participated in their wonder and surprise and new experiences. Things I saw every day and took for granted became new once again in my eyes.

What I’ve experienced since my return from Hawaii, is that if I will actually look for it, if I will open my perception, then I will see evidence of daily wonder all around me. I walk by the flowers near my door every day, several times, whenever I go in and out, with varying degrees of perception. I took the time, recently, to really stop and look at them. I grabbed my camera, turned on the macro, and searched for the small portions of beauty to be found in their petals. (By the way, I found it!)

Once, when spending a day shooting photographs, I came upon a huge area of somewhat unusual trash. It looked like someone had set up a large yard sale and then walked away and abandoned it all. The elements had not been kind, everything was drooping and water damaged, aged, repulsive and abandoned. As I walked through this dreary landscape of the castaway detritus of everyday life and snapped shots here and there, I surprised to find, yes, beauty and poignancy, in the midst of what basically amounted to a pile of garbage. (Side note: I do not want to miss the people and experiences in my life that appear to have no beauty, that seem, at first glance, ugly, damaged and repulsive. If I am open to it, even these will have lessons for me, beauty of some kind, and meaning born through my perception and experience.)

Sometimes I am separated from events/people by my camera. I’m so busy snapping pictures that I don’t truly participate/experience the moment. For some reason, doing the macro photography is working the opposite. I am feeling more connected to the world around me. More open to seeing beauty in unusual places. And, somehow, this is trickling over into my thinking. I am more open to believing that despite all evidence to the contrary, there will be some beauty/benefit to every experience/person, and if I look for it, I will see it, eventually.

The other thing I’m finding curious about this place I’m in right now, about looking closely in order to see, is that I’ve typically thought about pulling back in order to gain perspective. I would visually illustrate it by holding my little finger up right in front of my nose, then explain how it looks huge if my focus is on it, but if all I do is shift my focus to everything beyond the finger, it becomes small in comparison. It is quite interesting to find that these two principles, looking closely to see beauty and pulling back to gain perspective, are not mutually exclusive, but can indeed co-exist, even simultaneously.

Yesterday I heard a quote that really describes why both of these principles work:
“Our perception gathers evidence to prove that what we believe is right.”
Dr. Robert Holden

This is going to happen subconsciously if not intentionally. So why not choose my perception intentionally? I'm just beginning to grasp this and I love it!

Journey on, kind readers!
~K

Sunday, March 4th Tribute to My Friend

These last two days have been very, very intense emotional days for me as well. I arrived home from a fantastic retreat to find that my loving dog, Kana, had suddenly become ill on Wednesday, and had grown increasingly more and more dehydrated and emaciated over the next three days. I was so shocked when I walked in the door! She looked so horrible, and her breathing was so labored. Mike took her to the vet and learned that she has a fast spreadingcancer, and her blood count is quite low. The vet expressed concerns that she wouldn't be able to take chemo, due to her age. In agony,we made the decision to have Kana put down. We just hated to see her suffer.

First, we took her to her favorite walking spot, a trail not too far from our home. It is a wide, open, meandering path, running partially along the backside of a housing development. It is quite acceptable for a well-mannered dog, such as Kana, to be able to enjoy a daily constitutional "off-leash". She absolutely revelled in peeing on critical spots along the trail, managing somehow to produce enough - or ration herself just right - to milk a few drops even at the very end of our brisk walk.

Kana's next favorite proclivity? Why, sniffing of course! This trail was a veritable buffet of scentsfor Kana to inhale and snuffle and huff up her nose. Oh, and we can't forget the bunnies! On very, very special days, as a special gift, we would encounter a bunny along the trail. Of course, Kana just knew that the bunny was there to invite her to a game of chase, and off they would go! (It is good to note here, that by mutualagreement, it was never, ever, a game of "catch"!)

Today my ever-unconditional loving, faithful, honest, aware, connection to my children's childhood, protector, friend ... could take only seven or eight steps up the trail before stopping and looking quietly up at us, her sides heaving with her breathes, her brown eyes shining, as ever, with loyalty and adoration born of the truest love...and also with peace. And so, then, we set her free. I've been crying nearly non-stop, in between sharing loving memoriesof Kana with Mike. I honestly haven't felt grief this deeply since my brother, Mark, who lived with us, passed away. I asked Mike if we could sit down together and have a remembrance of Kana. He is inviting our sons. They will be "at choice" and this is a new, peaceful feeling for me. This will be a good process, I believe.

One precept that the camp participants discussed this week was "PRONOIA". In simplified terms, this is adapting a perception of day to day life based on the belief that the "universe" is conspiring FOR you. (Opposite of paranoia.) I was trying to think pronoiacally (through my sobs) and what I came up with is this: I am so grateful that I shared my life with a creature who came to mean so much to me that I would grieve her loss so deeply.

Love the close ones in your life NOW.
Kelly