The Sylvr Pen

In this picture (from the last post), what caught your eye? Was it …

(a) the telephone pole?

(b) the varied textures and colors of rocks, grass, and fall-colored leaves?

(c) the gray cloud cover falling short of a brilliant blue sky?

(d) the bare tree annoyingly right in the middle of the foreground?

When I look out that window, what I usually notice, this time of year, is the changing color patterns. Since my husband laid that rock ground cover, I also notice its nice textural contrast with the grass and trees. But mentally framing up a photo through the window, I got riveted on that stupid telephone pole! And then, once I took the picture, that annoying bare treelet in the foreground. Either of those, I thought, is what people will see first and foremost when they look at any post in which I place this.

I thought of moving elsewhere for my photo shoot. Then I changed my mind. What a good reminder of how easily we can allow life’s distracting eyesores to steal our enjoyment of life’s beauties!

I know it’s hard to look at a photo and not see the eyesores and distractions. Ordinarily no one should ever post a pic like that and expect people to think, “Oh, how pretty!” I am, after all, framing the blemishes!

But when I look out at the world (yes, admittedly a broken, diseased, and badly blemished place), where do I set my focus? On the diseases, fractures, and annoying distractions–or on the beauties and blessings?

Yes, we must give attention to the uglies we can have some part in fixing or relieving. Pretending they don’t exist is… well, lying. But we should never allow that attention to rob us of our view of the blessings–wherein, after all, lie the elements of healing and fixing, restoring and renewing.

Look at the photo again, and, if you didn’t before, notice the pretty red and gold of the foliage, the varied texture of rock and grass and sky, the wonder of baby trees become adolescents, despite a year of drought. And may you and I purposefully look at life’s photo frames the same way, making sure not to miss the beauties even in the less-than-spectacular scenes.

Not very pretty, is it, that view?

How about this one?

Same view. Different state of the outlook window.

It happened again today. Within a few minutes of waking I found myself morose (certain dates and memories the stimulus). I struggled against my mood, tried to reason myself out of it, talked to God about it, ended up shedding a few tears.

Nothing wrong with any of that, but none of it dispelled the blues. Not until I settled myself at my bedroom window and began individually writing down five specific blessings for which I’m grateful (new ones never mentioned before)—not until then did the inner dark clouds disperse. And again, I found myself…yes, happy–so much so it surprised even me, even after yesterday’s experience. I could feel my mood lifting even as I listed the gratitudes.

Nothing outside myself had changed. But the window through which I was peering had. The gratitude attitude had swept away the dirt and debris of past hurts and fears, and given me a clear view of my blessings.

I know: just listing gratitudes and mouthing thanksgiving prayers to God about them isn’t a panacea for depression and deep grief. But it certainly is a healing cleanser that helps clear away the spots and smudges of negativism that block our view of the good stuff still right there before us. Thanks to God for the gift of gratitude!

Today’s the killer,” my husband announced as he entered the kitchen. He meant frost. “It’s down in the twenties.”

How I choose to react to anything that early in the morning sets the tone for my day.

My initial reaction didn’t seem a choice, but a natural response. I jolted pleasantly awake, almost as if I’d stepped outside and felt the crisp coolness on my face and in my nostrils stirring my senses and refreshing my energy.

Not that I’m nuts about feeling cold. Anything but! This is different, part of “fall restart mode,” legacy of all my autumn-begun school “years.” Besides, I wasn’t actually feeling cold, inside my cozy house. That itself was something to be grateful for.

There was the key, even to a seemingly automatic positive reaction: the gratitude attitude about which I’d just set my resolve. Coming down the stairs shortly before, I’d purposed  to start my day thinking five gratitudes. I needed them.

Yesterday, organizing (and peeking into) old journals had plunged me into memories of several tragic events, and their accompanying sadness. Now I had to climb back out. I also realized I’d left my self-discipline of five daily gratitudes somewhere on my brain’s back burner lately, and figured I’d do my emotions a world of good by quickly moving it to the front and getting it bubbling again.

Guess what? I did.

I feel a thousand per cent perkier than when I got up–and not just because of “automatic” frost reactions and delicious, steaming coffee (another gratitude). Negative thoughts depress not only one’s emotions, but also one’s energy level, and the gratitude attitude does just the opposite: even energizes!

So I’m focusing on my gratitudes and thanking my beneficent Heavenly Father—-which latter action is a key perk-up to my spiritual state as well. Romans 1, starting at verse 18 (with focus on verse 21), shows me how the whole downward slide of man (or woman)—individually and collectively—begins with failure to recognize God as God and be grateful to Him for all the good He is and does.

Gratitude–especially that expressed to God–is an emotional life preserver. Grabbing it to ride life’s waves sure beats flailing about amid the turbulence, trying desperately to keep my head above water.

Which leads me to thoughts of an even more crucial topic: the key to spiritual prosperity…

(More on that in a later post…)

He’s so efficient with the autumn mowing, I want to run out in front of him and his mower, and wave my arms and yell, “Stop! Stop!”

Not a good idea. He wouldn’t listen anyhow. I’ve tried some things along that line before.

Not that I dislike efficiency. It’s just that I love those fallen leaves.

I love to amble through them, kicking them about with a mighty rustle, reminding myself of walks home from school under maples that lined my hometown street. I like to glance up from the kitchen sink and see through the window all their colors littering the ground beneath the crab tree, blessing me with the awareness, even when I’m stuck inside, that the heat and hurry of summer has ended and my favorite season is unfolding. I even like to think of raking them, the way I enjoyed doing long ago, with dad and brother, to make a huge pile into which we all would leap, laughing.

But he’s mowing-efficient; so that window view is fleeting. Ah well (sigh), the lawn is tidy when he’s finished, another loose end tied up before winter, and for that I’m grateful. And I’m not much into jumping in leaf piles lately…

But maybe, I think, if the leaf piles were there in the backyard to leap in, maybe, just maybe I would!

Freeze warning!” says the weather report. “2 a. m. to 10 a. m!” The news stirs in me mixed feelings.

Hard frost means basil gone black, impatiens made slimy, tender summer veggies finished—and so a frantic last ditch harvest. But a good hard frost ends allergy time, and gives me my chance to enjoy, unhindered, my favorite season of the year.

I love fall. Vibrant oranges, golds, and reds shimmer under intense blue skies. Impetuous breezes rattle leaves and waft about the pungent fragrance only autumn gives. Cricket twitter rings, intermittent, in the grass around.  A lone crow’s caw echoes against the quiet backdrop empty now of summer’s busy sounds.

Something unique in autumn’s essence tugs harder at the strings of my heart than all other times of the year. It is the minor key season, beautiful, haunting, like a Celtic melody played on panpipes. Something invigorating to my spirit permeates the crisper air. And, I suppose, all my years of school—learning and teaching—give fall the sense of new beginning that always came with new pencils, new tablets, new crayons, new “year.”

No, I don’t mind the frost. Happy Fall!