My plans just haven’t been working out the way I imagined them, and when I do get things the way I want them… well, someone else seems to redecorate. It’s not that things are bad, just different than I pictured. And I have a tendency to hold on to my mental picture until it crinkles under the pressure of my grip. I forget to open my hands to the gift of something else. I forget to be thankful.
But what helps me, ironically, is taking pictures with my camera. When I’m looking through the camera’s lens, I’m purposefully seeking beauty. I’m trying to capture poetry before it slips away. I’m documenting the everyday moments, savoring them now and saving them for later. If I look through my camera lens often enough, it changes how I see.
The tiny flowers at the base of the grape vine.
The bright red against the cool blue of the strainer.
And, on really good days, I can watch the broken flowers from the bouquet become something else beautiful.