Thursday, February 2, 2017

It's All in How We See the World

    Today is my birthday--34 now :)
    Anyway, I woke up in a funk this morning, thinking about how memorable my birthdays have been.
    When Zeke died, his viewing was on my birthday. I played the violin next to his little casket, and cried.... THAT was a hard day.  Several years later, I had a little girl (Dr. Jones) thirty minutes before my birthday.  The next day all of the nurses working the floor, brought a cake to me, and as I held my newborn sweetheart, the nurses sang to us.  I had this overwhelming feeling of gratitude from their kindness. That was my most amazing birthday, holding my little girl, and listening to the nurses sing--who would've known they'd be able to take my blood pressure AND carry a tune.
    Anyway, like I said, today I woke up in a funk.  And I keep thinking of something that happened a couple of days ago:
    I went to get my taxes done; as everyone knows, this can take quite a while.  After I'd given all of my information to the sweet lady across from me, I began studying a photo she had on the wall.
    It's an intriguing picture, with five people who are all lying on their backs in a grassy field. Each person is a different race--and the concept is pretty clear--diversified yet unified.  But there was something more about that picture; I couldn't quite grasp it. Each and every person wore a pair of eyeglasses.  Unable to help myself, I continued staring at each detail of the picture until the appointment was almost over.
    "Wow, you really like that photo," the tax preparer said.
    I looked at it one last time, and what had elluded me before, suddenly shone through. I saw the whole scene differently.  "It's amazing," I said. 
    "I like it, but I wouldn't say it's amazing."  She took off her glasses and studied me.
    "I know this is a common concept, and there are a lot of photos out there like this, but I just realized what make this one so different."
     "Oh?" she asked.
     "If you stop focusing on the obvious things: the people, their clothes, the grass they're lying on, and just focus on their glasses...."
     She came next to me and stared at the picture. "Their glasses, huh?  Well, they look like regular gla-- Wait, I see it! The reflection!  I've never had anyone point that out before."
    The reflection shone faintly in each of their eyeglasses, but even those faint images were far more beatiful than the obvious picture itself.  Greying buildings, lanky trees, and a stormy sky showed itself in the glass.  As if every subject looked at a dry, dying world, ready to be refreshed by a storm....
    I almost wished momentarily that the photographer had rested in the grass as well, and taken a picture--not of the people, but up, seeing what had appeared above and around them.  Were the people the real subjects of this photo, or had the artist realized what the glass told about their surroundings?
    "You're right, Elisa. That picture is amazing!"
    As I took my paperwork and got in my truck to drive away, I looked through the business window. The tax preparer sat down where I had been, and began studing the photo.
    The whole drive home I kept thinking about the picture.... 
    If we take the time to look at life through different perspectives, we'll discover truly amazing things.

Signing Off,
Elisa