In my own worst seasons, I’ve come back from the colorless world of despair by forcing myself to look hard for a long time at a single glorious thing – a flame of red geranium outside my bedroom window.  And then another – my daughter in a yellow dress.  And another – the perfect outline of a full, dark sphere behind the crescent moon, until I learned to be in love with my life again.  Like a stroke victim, retraining new parts of the brain to grasp lost skills, I have taught myself joy, over and over again.

I don’t know who wrote these words, and it doesn’t matter.  They’ve touched me and opened my eyes.  I realize that often I don’t look at things in my environment.  Oh, I may see the objects but I may not be drinking them in.  Thank you, anonymous author.  Wherever you are, do your ears perk up as I write these words?  Do you sense the contribution that you’ve made to my life?  On some level, may you see.

I’m sitting in my man chair in our family room at 5:00 am.  Can’t sleep for some unknown reason.  Mr. or Ms. Anonymous has me looking around.  On the end table by the couch sits a gorgeous stained glass lamp, but right now the light is out.  How about if I go over there and turn it on?  Yes.  I’ll be right back.

…

Ahhh.  Much better.  A brilliant red rose is saying good morning, as are green shoots that look like welcoming arms.  Is it as simple as this when I feel tired and dull:  Just turn the light on?  My spiritual lamp may be completely off or it may be on a dimmer switch.  Just turn it on, Bruce.  Take flat moments and objects and breathe life into them.  Animate them.

Now, back to the family room, ably assisted by a cup of coffee.  I look at the soft wine-coloured couch beside me and remember all the cuddling that Jody and I have done there, and all the guests who have lounged and chatted thereon.  Cool.  No longer just a piece of furniture.

On the far wall hangs a painting of Jody and me, created from a photo of us on the leafy patio of a Quebec City restaurant.  Two smiling humans holding each other.  And yet how rarely I look up and see us there.  Time for a change.  Time to embrace what comes my way in the daily round, moment by moment.

All these thoughts are dropping out of my fingers because a dear one out there in the universe wrote about red flames and dark spheres.  Thank you again, universal someone.  It is truly a gift you have given.