I hardly ever notice the clouds as they shift quietly in the sky. I look up but for a moment, mostly if I think that it’s going to rain or if I notice the mountains in the distance, but the clouds never get a second thought. This morning as I lay motionless, starring out of our bedroom window, the clouds caught my attention. They passed each other slowly and effortlessly and I thought, I haven’t seen clouds moving in a long time. So I gazed a little longer, caught up in what felt like a mystical moment.
Finally, I peeled myself from underneath my warm Duvet, dragged my feet and my body to my living room, and plopped onto the middle of my sagging Hunter Green Couch. What else am I missing? I thought. What subtle, every day details, are begging for my attention? And why am I moving so fast that I don’t even notice shifting clouds? I mean, aren’t they always moving?
I notice the big moments in life like moving cars and bustling streets.Well, I guess I have to notice those things or get mowed over by a speeding Toyota or tripped up by a college student texting his buddy, right? But I feel like by missing the nuances, those tiny strands of beauty that tie us all together, I may be contributing to the unraveling of my calmness and my feeling of connectedness to the whole. I may even be causing myself acute anxiety.
Maybe today as I venture out, I’ll walk a little slower, notice the cracks in the sidewalk, or lean against a weathered tree in its last season. And maybe when I look up at the clouds, I’ll see a bunny or a dragon or feel just a little more connected to the planet.