As we enter this week of Thanksgiving, I want to thank all of my friends in the blogging community for enriching my life daily. You have been, and continue to be, great sources of inspiration, education, and joy. More importantly, you have proven yourselves to be true friends — fellow pilgrims on this magical and mysterious journey we call life.
My offering today is very simple: some abstract photos taken during the past few weeks, some pertinent observations of others about unexpected beauty, and, finally, a lovely poem by Anne Sexton about everyday blessings. Enjoy.
One of the most important — and most neglected — elements in the beginning of the interior life is the ability to respond to reality, to see the value and the beauty in ordinary things, to come alive to the splendor that is all around us.
Everything is life is speaking, is audible, is communicating, in spite of its apparent silence.
Hazrat Inayat Khan
For lack of attention, a thousand forms of loveliness elude us every day.
No more words. In the name of this place we
drink in with our breathing, stay quiet like a flower,
So the nightbirds will start singing.
If you love it enough, anything will talk with you.
George Washington Carver
The moment one gives close attention to anything . . . it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.
Take, for example, a pencil, ashtray, anything, and holding it before you in both hands, regard it for a while. Forgetting its use and name, yet continuing to regard it, ask yourself seriously, "What is it?" . . . Its dimension of wonder opens; for the mystery of the being of that thing is identical with the mystery of the being of the universe, and yourself.
There is joy
in the hair I brush each morning,
in the Cannon towel, newly washed,
that I rub my body with each morning,
in the chapel of eggs I cook
the spoon and the chair
that cry "hello there, Anne"
in the godhead of the table
that I set my silver, plate, cup upon
All this is God,
right here in my pea-green house
and I mean,
though often forget,
to give thanks,
to faint down by the kitchen table
in prayer of rejoicing
as the holy birds at the kitchen window
peck into their marriage of seeds.
So while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God, this laughter of the morning,
lest it go unspoken.
The Joy that isn't shared, I've heard,
Notes on photographs: (1) detail from abandoned Chevrolet tow truck; (2) mooring line and reflections from dock in marina; (3) patina of old metal strip found in boatyard; (4) sailboat rudder and keg; (5) sunrise on Tred Avon River; (6) stern of old work boat; (7) water reflection of boat workshop; (8) water reflection of machinery and sailboat masts: (9) detail from abandoned Chevrolet tow truck; (10) collage of some of my other abstract photos created by my blogging friend, Neighbor, over at Temporary Reality .