I look up at budding trees against blue sky, and it’s maybe the first time I’ve ever seen them. Tiny bits of green dot the ends of bare branches.
I start to look that spring. The therapist and the social worker call it “mindfulness”–paying attention to what’s around you instead of what’s in your head. For me, I just call it looking, feeling, hearing. I walk the mile to school in the mornings, and I look.
I see the order that the trees and flowers bud and bloom. Beginning–green buds that turn into leaves and dogwoods. Sometime later–tulips and cherry blossoms white as cotton. Then the wisteria, hanging lazy over gazebos and trees and power lines, like bunches of grapes. The leaves grow larger day by day, paint the cars and doorsteps with pollen.
I have looked for years but not looked. I am usually preoccupied with whatever I am thinking, my mind picturing how the sermon will go, how the test will go, how the conversation will go. I do not hear; I listen to the soundtrack of worries and worst-case scenarios.
But now, I look, and I see. The trees bud. Resurrection.
I’m participating in Five Minute Friday over at Lisa-Jo Baker’s, where we write, unedited, for five minutes. The theme this week is “Look.”
This post is part of a series, 31 Days of Healing. Check out Day 1 or the complete list of posts. If you want to follow along, you can also subscribe by email or subscribe in a feed reader. Or “like” the blog on Facebook. (We’re all about options here.) And thanks for reading!