Wet walking – treat for the eye
Mud mud glorious mud! There is a lot of it about. In the woodlands, fields and paths where I walk each morning there’s lots of mud and much opportunity. Mud and wet paths can be an opportunity to complain, to struggle through and long for drier weather. Complaining at ones lot and wishing it to be otherwise is a very common habit. Bending my knees, camera in hand, to view the path from a different angle it was transformed. The sky reflected in the puddles, the texture and the going on-ness of the path. Now I am wondering how it would be viewed from above. But no! I am not going to climb trees to find out.
It is hard to conceive when life seems to be doing it to us in harsh and mucky ways that how we view life is a choice. And choice changes with conditions, over time.
Here is somebody reflecting on what she does and finding beauty in it.
The job I am doing at the moment allows me to express in abundance kindness, gentleness, tenderness, compassion in a way that my ‘career’ job never did (or at least made very difficult.) And the spin off for me is huge. It feels as if what I am able to express comes directly back to me in some sort of circle of energy. I have the privilege, for a couple of hours a day, of caring for a lady who is close to death, supporting her and her husband, washing her, sitting with her while he goes out, talking with her about anything and everything, including her dying, sitting quietly beside her while she sleeps, holding the cup while she drinks tea, smoothing cream into her body, massaging her feet. It’s sad and moving, but it is also almost unbearably lovely and an incredible privilege.
