noticing some of the small things as a blessing in autumn....

With the risk of sounding like a broken record, as I take in the wonder of autumn this year, I am noticing how nearly everything around me seems to be getting smaller. Well, almost everything. My tomatoes continue to grow (and hopefully ripen) and my solitary pumpkin is getting a bit bigger, too. But just about everything else - the shrubs and flowers in the front yard, the trees and their shedding leaves, the wetland foliage, the sunlight, and even the grass - is diminished. Smaller. And, I am stunned to confess, all of this feels like the first time (cut to the MTV clip from Foreigner.) 

I know, of course, nothing on the outside has changed; this is what happens every year at this time. But it seems new to me. And, in fact, it IS new - to me. In a blog post entitled, "Little Details," writer Andy Otto observes:

How often our own routines become mindless. Perhaps the little things can remind us that God cares about those as much as us, and maybe it’s why God places them in our lives... Detail in life is oft overlooked but isn’t it the tiny things that make things whole? Isn’t it the little nicks and scratches and experiences and talents and histories that have contributed to what makes me me? God’s universe is designed in this way, that the whole, the larger, is made up of smaller details – and when we reverse by looking back at those smaller and smaller details, we find delight and wonder in them. How boring life would be if we weren’t aware of the little details in relationships. For many, a lack of awareness for one’s own details makes self-image bland and makes life bland. On the contrary. Go deeper into the perceived blandness and you’ll find that there are thousands of fantastic blessings that cry out for you to notice. (https://godinallthings.com/2013/06/24/the-little-details/)

Noticing is one of the small practices spiritual directors are encouraged and trained to experience and then share. It is a process that is rarely monumental. Or grand. Or even special. Rather, noticing simply calls attention to the little things of real life and wonders aloud about the deeper truths they might be pointing towards? Or what insights and/or feelings they evoke? It is a bit like giving a camera to a five year old and looking at the pictures together: not only do they show a reality that is smaller and much closer to the ground, but they give adults a whole new perspective on what goes on everyday in the life of a small person. Back in seminary, we gave our five year old an old camera and were delighted as well as baffled by the pictures she took: there were fire hydrants we never noticed, candy strategically placed at the eye level of a child in the local NYC bodega, friends who seemed to exist only from the thighs down, and familiar land marks cut in half that took on a surreal and even upside down significance. 

That's how I felt when I noticed the golden rod in the field behind our neighbor's home. It is a wild sea of yellow with a few hints of red from the gladiolas in the foreground: a resting place for a simple statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary. We've lived here for 12 years and I only noticed this beauty yesterday. Where have I been? What has been going on inside that kept me from seeing? What's changed? Noticing, I think, is a way of seeing, living and comprehending life from within the wisdom of the little things. "Consider the lilies of the field," Jesus said. Or "I thank you, Holy Creator, that Thou hast hidden these things to the wise and powerful,  but have revealed them to your little ones. And in this we know your gracious will... so come to me all ye who are tired and heavy laden, and I will give you rest." I am discovering for the first time another level of being blessed by God's first word in creation: nature. This poem by Shari Wagner called, "The farm wife turns off the TV evangelist," rings true to me:

The Jesus I grew up with
likes to be outside.
If he's not fishing, he's picking figs
or showing us his mustard crop.

He prefers dusty roads, the common sparrow,
and lilies of the field.
When he knocks on your door
holding a lantern, you know it's time
to buckle on overshoes
and go with him to feed the sheep.

But this preacher, who looks straight
into the camera and claims he knows
Jesus, says what he wants
is for me to believe in him
so he can come inside.

That sounds shifty to me.
Like a wolf with his paws dipped in flour.

Jesus who heals the blind
said we will know a tree by its fruit.