I once walked into our home, which was being remodeled, and picked up a large piece of waste paper laying next to the wall and when I got into the kitchen my wife asked what I thought (about it). The “it” to which she was referring was that the dining room through which I had just walked had been transformed from a very neutral off-white color to terracotta by the painters after I left for work that morning. “What do I think about what?” I responded.
After she collected herself from the shock of my totally missing the metamorphosis, even though my head, but clearly not my eyes, was less than twelve inches from the wall when I picked up the paper, she just looked at me in total disbelief. Following her gaze, I turned to see the transformation of the room and admired the beauty of the “bold” room afresh in the warm color. How did I miss that?
I don’t see detail. I never have. I don’t even concern myself with detail unless I absolutely have to. My ADD keeps my mind in overdrive almost constantly and at any given moment; I’m several hundred miles from where my body is. Guess I was born that way or maybe it’s a malady of the culture in which we live.
As I have grown older and hopefully matured, I have come to understand the joy of seeing the world around me. Sometimes, I actually observe there are leaves on the trees. Sometimes, I watch the sunlight sparkle and “bounce” off the water of the river I’m standing in with a fly rod in my hand. Sometimes, I sit in my chair with “the girls” (My two toy poodles) in my lap and watch the birds at the feeder and actually see the varied markings and colors that make them unique. When I do these things, my blood pressure drops, my pulse slows and I have a sense of peace. I wonder what else I have missed in life by not seeing?