The Eye.

My father was an extremely talented photographer. His vision of our world was on a different and higher plane than almost anyone.

Whereas most people can admire a meadow of wildflowers…and many can appreciate the beauty of a single wildflower…he would seek to capture a flower’s interior poetry and the wonder of a bee gathering its nectar.

Some of my earliest memories are of him on one knee focusing his lens on some tiny miracle that would go unnoticed by anyone else. He understood the magic dance between light and shadow. The fascinatingly, perfect composition to be found in a deteriorating barn.

We would all do well to cultivate our Eye. To see the beauty of the smallest miracles that surround us and that we usually take for granted. It’s difficult to be unhappy when we pause to marvel at the lively sparkle of sunshine on a shell or the majesty of a pelican in flight.

When experiencing difficulties, major or minor, look to your Eye and enter the peaceful world that awaits.

Be well,
Shanti’s Dad