There are trails that run along the river through the bush by our house. The previous owners of the property would use this bush as a dumping site for metal waste, so in a few places, the trails go right past old rusting cans, cogs and shafts, scraps and parts, ancient implements, rolls of tangled wire, an old freezer, a small granary, and even an old manure spreader. It is not a pretty sight.
I walk through these trails nearly every day. I would look at all that metal junk grown over and through by younger trees and shrubs. As I walked past, I would get so frustrated with the mess. I’d fume about how disrespectful of whoever made the mess. I’d ruminate about how to possibly clean it up. I’d frown at the thought of being the one to clean up someone else’s mess.
And I would miss everything else.
I would miss the vibrant green of the leaves, the lazy flow of the river, the soft moss on the trunks, the birds singing their morning music, the way the rising sun played on the branches. I missed it all because I was looking at the junk.
Now when I walk, I look at the beauty. The junk is still there and I know it. I’m not in denial of it, but I do not allow the junk to take away from the beauty that is there too.
Where is the junk in your life? The stuff that's not going well? Are you fixated on it?
What are you missing because you keep looking at the junk?
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