MAGNIFIED

There is much to contend with before setting feet into fluffy pink slippers,
my reminder that I am more feminine than I admit.

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I am compelled to write about how the day begins. There is no jumping out of bed with arms wide open, no obvious jubilation that another day manifests. There is only a slow opening of my eyes that reveals the unusual ray of Winter’s sunlight streaming in.

I am not sunny in the mornings, not light-hearted but rather burdened to some degree by the night travels into lands where memories are held deep. The haunting of something not quite remembered holds me captive under the sheets.

Sometimes the waking hour holds bigger emotions than events of recent days justify, and I lose myself in a complicated exercise of reconciling feelings at odds with a life that is mostly good, mostly sweet, mostly kind.

At some point in the morning, I ritually face the full force of who I am six-times magnified—This woman who has been through much, gazes into the illuminated reflection of a living portrait, lines like fine charcoal pencil strokes added with precision by the Master as a reminder that despite it all I still survived.

Six-times magnified. These eyes. This mouth.
But what of the physical changes hidden within?
Best not to idle on these seismic implications for too long.

The trick then [and there is one] is to shift my focus to the ‘others,’ whom I pray for with regular intensity.  

The list of requests grows longer as the unsettling texts flow in.

It’s not so much about seeking answers [although the desperation for them increases] as it is about being heard. We, every one of us at one point or another, go about our days invisible in our heartaches to most of the world.

More recently I  have been struck by
the power of the second glance—

At having discovered a “first-missed” hidden beauty that reveals itself when I am more loving, open, unhurried…
more engaged in another’s story unfolding in the moment,
less occupied by what transpired even five minutes before.

It seems our reflections are made more exquisite not by the superficial routines of makeup and hair, but by something more organic and rare—’another’ looking deeper, holding in the highest priority the gift of being fully-present, without the need to be heard, right, clever, liked.

 What a gift it is to linger.
To sit amid the swirl of imperfect words falling out.
To take in a difficult story without fidgeting or checking our watch.
To seek out subtle clues of need and want
and then to fill that emptiness with tenderness, acceptance, grace, even love.

The aspect that makes us more beautiful above all others is how we hold [with genuine affection] the people who share our planned and random paths—

Wishing well to another of His creation instead of merely passing by.
Making eye contact without being the first to look away.
Standing as close as touch without pretending there’s no one there.

Who among us is void of ache for this simple kindness?
Who among us is immune to the simple joy a stranger’s smile inspires?

I have made the gravest of mistakes this morning in thinking first and only of myself. I have misunderstood that the morning-song is a solo performance and not a chorus of humanity rising to greet the same sunlight.

Let these voices be magnified—
So that I hear the longings in a supernatural way. So that each that I encounter sees their reflection as more beautiful in my eyes.

 NOTES
I wrote this Thursday morning. And then I went out. It was the strangest experience. Every single person I encountered made a point to look me in the eye and smile.

There was more to it than simply passing it off as a “good day.” It was as if an awareness in me had shifted [and it had], and the world could sense it [and it did].

We were created for connection. In fact, that act of humanity, of noticing and regarding the ‘others’ that come across our path, is a form of worship. I believe it’s the highest form of compliment to the One who created us all. And I am certain that our affection for one another makes Him glad.

When we get too up close in our own business, when we magnify our problems by starring at them too intently for too long, we miss the broader view, the one that stretches out before us like a like a field of wild flowers blowing in the wind. We are the wildflowers, sharing soil and wind, rain, and light…interconnected…and breathtaking.