They caught my eye this morning. Their stems standing tall. Their petite pink flowers matching the morning sky. My punchbowl begonia was beautiful.
Perhaps the lens through which I saw them made my vision rosy. The day had begun beautifully, so it could be everything looked lovely. I meditated with our cat Moonbeam coming by for a visit. I did some sun salutations. I made the bed and Kevin made the tea, delivering it to me as I read the morning news.
“It’s almost Christmas,” he said.
“And just a week until my birthday,” I grinned.
“You deserve a present,” he said, leaping from his chair and bolting up the stairs to retrieve the CD that could not wait another seven days.
Our half dozen Christmas trees of assorted sizes were aglow in the pre-dawn darkness, and it felt luxurious to take them in on a Friday morning with rushing not required.
Yes. Everything was looking beautiful.
But my begonia—they had been beautiful all year. How many times had I looked at them through the lens of distraction, thinking about problems that weren’t mine, forgetting they needed a drink or a bit of food? Too many.
Their rich green leaves and pink blossoms blessed hundreds of my days. Years ago, my neighbor replaced summer blooms for autumn mums, I helped them escape the trash heap, certain they still had more to give. Indeed, they did.
This December season will bring more moments of heart-lightening loveliness—bright red bows on boxes, tall candles shimmering on the china- set table, sparkling bubbles in champagne flutes. As I appreciate the happy gifts of the holidays, my hope is to adjust the lens through which I see all those things I’ve neglected to pay attention to.
There’s so much beauty to behold.
What is the lens through which you are looking?
Have you failed to see something right in front of you?
What beauty can you appreciate right now?