Slow Living: Baby Steps

 Pixabay image of snail on a camera lens housing

I opened the blinds this weekend and the most gorgeous butterfly (or moth?) I have ever seen was perched on my window frame.

It was clearly designed to look like dried leaves, and I know that sounds drab, but let me tell you, this thing was exquisite. I’ve never seen a stained glass window or painting this intricate and amazing. The Mighty Monarch doesn’t hold a candle to whatever this anonymous beauty was.

And my first thought was to scurry off and get my tablet to try to take a picture of it.

Fortunately, before I got too far scurried, two thoughts collided in my head:

First, I remembered that I’m trying to be more intentional about savouring moments of beauty rather than missing big chunks of them in my efforts to hold onto them.

Second, I remembered the myriad pictures of the fawns out in the yard, or other beautiful things I’ve tried to take through these (roughly second story) windows, and I thought “You know the picture’s not going to do this justice; you could just stay here and enjoy the beauty instead of running around the house looking for a camera.”

So that’s what I did.


And thank God, because in just seconds, the butterfly decided that my window screen wasn’t comfortable, or remembered an appointment, or whatever it is that prompts art to meander on its way.

I could have missed most of this tiny miracle while searching for my tablet, or taking countless frustratingly bad photos.

Obviously this is an itty-bitty-baby-step in the grand scheme of living a slower, more present, more abundant life, but it’s a step, so I wanted to celebrate it.

I wish you a small, beautiful moment of awe this week!

Be well. 

Monday: Experience

My back yard rained yesterday.

The morning began sunny, with a handful of fluffy clouds, then we got a good, healthy rain for maybe half an hour or so.

The rain ended, the sun came back out, in full glory, and I thought nothing of it until I walked into the kitchen.

Out the back window, the sun was shining brightly through the trees – big streams of it, all through the yard. Like liquid gold, seriously. The branches glowed.

But, the trees, having obviously captured a LOT of rain while it fell, where gently showering that down too. And as this ‘rain’ fell into the streams of sunlight, it, too became liquid gold.

It was one of the more beautiful things I’ve seen.

Thank God, I woke up enough to go out and walk around in it while it lasted.

Wonderland, anyone? It was breathtaking.

Right in my own backyard.


Even though I can’t capture it nearly as beautifully as it deserves, I wanted to mention it as  a reminder – to me, and to anyone else who chooses – to be awake to moments of delight in our every-day.

EVEN our Monday!   🙂



Be well.