The Red Leaf

At first glance, I thought it was a bright red bird. Then I realized as it fluttered, first one way then the next, it was nothing more than a crumbling old brown sycamore leaf--the kind I crunch over on my deck and tell myself, “I really have to sweep these up.”

In a rare moment of relaxation, I was leaning back instead of thinking of all the worried thoughts that usually keep me so busy and distracted. In a rare moment of receptiveness, I had opened my eyes to see.

Once I saw the leaf and realized my mistake, I started watching differently. How could it be that something that usually seemed so ugly to me could actually be so beautiful?

I watched the leaf on its journey. First it fluttered left. Then right. Its fall from above was so gentle it reminded me of a parachuter taking his time.

I started listening differently too. I heard things I hadn’t before. Like a big fish for instance, breaking above the surface. The call of a distant bird and the response of another. The rumble of a truck crossing the highway bridge a few miles away.

The more I looked and listened in this new way, the more I realized this must be how our 14-month-old son Devin experiences life. Magical. Full of surprises. Not littered with leaves to be swept but instead with mysteries to discover.

Devin tells me about his view of the world in his simplistic way (“car, car” with a pointing finger) and I realize that yes, indeed, a car has passed on a distant road. Sometimes he sings in perfect harmony, mimicking the tone of a bird, a laughing child or a tune on the radio. Even without the means to communicate like you or I, he tells me what he hears.

When moments of clarity break through the clutter of our lives, it’s as if life stops and slows down for a moment. I feel as if I have awakened from a deep sleep and become alive once more.

The beauty is that this experience is available to us all in every moment, no matter how long it's been since we’ve been in our real-world slumber. Even when I’ve been immune to the stories and magic happening all around me for some time, I am continually reassured to learn the magic has been happening anyway. Regardless of whether I've been there for the show.

The good news is no matter how complacent or tired or rote our lives become, all we have to do to rejoin the cacophony of goodness is open our ears and eyes, listen and see. Now.