The moment one gives close attention to any thing, even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.
The big girls scale rocks. Daddy spots them. I sit on a waterproof blanket with my baby. The sun is coy, but bright. I get an idea. A simple one.
I pick her up. And she clings to me. Oh, how I love how she clings to me. I walk a few feet away from the striped square. I put her down.
I put her down in the grass. And I step away. I step back. I watch.
She looks around. And up. At a big blue sky mottled with wispy clouds. And she reaches out.
She buries her little hands in grass. She closes her fists and yanks. She comes away with a few broken blades.
I watch. I watch her discover something new. I watch her commune with a tiny patch of nature. I watch and I glimpse joy.
And I also feel it. Joy. It's more than that, what I feel. Far more.
She gives close attention to the grass around her. And as she does this, I give close attention to her, this little being that sprouts before me every day, this brilliant blade of grass in my family's pasture, this mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.
And I realize something. This is perhaps the most important thing we can do in our lives. In our lives as people, as professionals, as parents. The most important thing we can do is give close attention.
To ourselves. To our creatures. To our world.
And so. I will continue to do just this.