Some would call it a strength. Some would call it a failing. I see it as two sides of the same coin. What is an attribute is also my Achilles heel—it all depends on the circumstance and the degree. Being so single-focused can blind me to the world around me.
Once this spring and then again Tuesday evening, I was blessed with the gift of sideways and sideways because I was in the moment, not anywhere else. Just in in that spot at that time and able to see or hear sideways.
This spring, on an early Sunday morning walk in Mount Pleasant Cemetery with Lily Lu, we passed by the brook. To my right and below I heard splashing. At first I thought it was just the brook tumbling over the rocks except it wasn’t constant. It was sporadic. Curiosity brought me to the edge and I looked down.
Four gorgeous fish, speckled brown with a rosy peach streak along their sides, were swimming upstream. Stopping side by side and letting the water flow over them. Leaping ahead (the splashing), rolling over each other. I don’t now how I knew that I was looking at rainbow trout, but I was certain. I stood there for ages, savoring this gift that came to me because I was present and open to it.
Tuesday evening, after torrential downpours, I took Lil for her evening walk. It was a deepening dusk and the air was saturated with moisture. We were the only ones on the bank of the
Across the river was a great blue heron in the water on the opposite bank. His slate blue feathers blended in with the shadows and low hanging branches. It was only when he glided along looking for fish that I could really see him. Together we slowly moved down the river until he finally rose from the water and took flight.
Today I have been thinking a lot about the gift of sideways. Straight ahead is not the only path. It is not even always the best path. I’ve been thinking there is something to be said for being aware of the sideways paths and sometimes taking them, isn’t there?
