Walking with Eyes Open

I wrote and scheduled the post below before the shootings in Orlando this weekend.  I wasn't sure I wanted to post it--I'm feeling hurt and angry and this moment of beauty post wasn't quite what I wanted to talk about. But then, maybe a moment of beauty is just what is needed, maybe healing begins with the small things.
​Make no mistake, I do have more to say on the mass shooting.  I'm still sorting those feelings and maybe, once I do, I'll write another post.

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I’ve always been more comfortable out in the woods than in a crowd. I often walk to clear my head, to reconnect with my spirit. There’s something to being out in nature. This is my church, I think, my connection to something bigger than myself.
But, face it, some walks are better than others. There are days when I’m too tired or preoccupied to really see the world around me. I suppose this post is a reminder to myself, to keep my eyes open. Because when I do, the world is full of beautiful moments.

These wild irises decorated the bank of the pond, along a path I’ve walked so many times that I’ve lost count. Seeing them, I felt as though I’d been given a gift and maybe I had. I’ve been so worried about the state of the world, about how we abuse each other and our planet, about how little I can do to change this. I am, after all just one person, a dot, a blip.
No one planted these flowers, they were not carefully planted in a garden, not cultivated, not watered and weeded. And yet here they are, growing wild along the banks.  It’s true that I don’t control the world.  These iris, creating beauty along the banks, tell me I don’t need to.
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