A Sense of Place….

How well do you know what surrounds you?

I first notice the contrast in light – dark blue mountains in the background as the storm clouds grumble away – slapped into submission by strong western sunlight. And the lake surrounded by hills – the blue mirroring the mountains, but broken by brilliant white peaks – sailboats!  The foreground is bathed in the textured gold of a dry autumn meadow. My shadow stands in the center – taking this one last cellphone shot of the only place I’ve ever truly felt at home. 

It’s the contrasts that draw me in. The light in that place would never be so vivid without the deep dark blue trying to swallow it whole. Without the vivid sunlit gold, that shade of blue would turn muted gray. I know this. For years in intermittent seasons I have watched the mountain moods shift multiple times in a day…the soft light of dawn, the dry shimmering mirage of afternoon, the eerie light of a snowy sunset. The more the contrast, the more I am riveted, and the deeper the beauty. 

My mother lived here in this amazing place, Frisco, CO. for over 30 years. But late in her life, I doubt she experienced it as I did. For she was constantly caught in the small confining daily cycles of her attention: laundry, cooking, taking care of the cat. She focused exclusively on what she could control. And I couldn’t help feeling that what was known to her was a very diminished place compared to mine. 

So now, as another summer comes to an end and the low roar of a busy autumn rumbles ever closer, I have to wonder – what information am I missing because I am too busy focusing on the Known, The To-Do list, the small cycles of what I can control? How is my experience, my outlook and my ultimate value in a situation compromised because I fail to see the farther horizons, the unique shadows, the “weather” in a situation?

Maybe this post is about mindfulness. And maybe it’s about gratitude. It could be about just trying to embrace the reality of a situation while still finding surprise in it, or humor, or beauty.

How would our work experience shift if we could bring these questions intentionally into play?