Through the Eyes of Babes

If you're walking too quickly, if your eyes are cast down at the device in the palm of your hand, if your mind is too busy with the tasks you didn't get to yesterday and the ones still left for today, you may not notice.

You may not see the tiny purple flowers pushing their way up between mounds of dead leaves and half frozen earth, or the tiny buds sitting perched atop barren tree branches. You may not notice that most of those buds are patiently wrapped up inside themselves, waiting for nature and spring and a shift in the air to give them the go ahead, while others, in a burst of enthusiasm and optimism, are already showing their colors.

They signal to the birds who spend their mornings singing their gratitude for the blessing of another sunrise that spring is not only on her way, but that she is here.

I watch my little boy watching the world, and his noticing gives me permission to be still, to be present, to be of the world and not just in it. 

Who Are Your People?

You Are Enough