One day last week, I found myself with an inexplicable lack of energy and inspiration. I couldn’t pinpoint why. It just felt like a stay-in-my-pajamas, cozy-up-on-the-couch kind of day.
Feeling the pull toward a lazy day, I made the choice not to give in. Not because those days are unwelcome, but because I could also sense a wanting to be outside to enjoy the gorgeous weather after a very rainy morning. So, I mustered up the energy, got dressed, and headed to the park.
Once I arrived and saw the greenery and felt the sunshine on my face, I felt immediately reassured that I had made the right choice. Yet, as I began to walk along the trail, an unfamiliar thought popped into my mind.
You probably won’t find anything interesting to photograph here. It’s the same trail. Nothing has changed.
The thought seemed to arise from nowhere, perhaps because of my mood, but nonetheless it had a sneaky and subtle impact. Instead of preparing my camera like I usually do by preemptively turning it on and metering for light, I did not. I allowed this thought to dictate my actions even though I had no idea how it had arrived.
The funny thing is that with each step forward, I still found myself looking up at the trees and sky, and my eyes swept across the lake as if my heart was secretly resisting and wishing my premonition would be proven wrong.
Suddenly, I leaned back as something whizzed by and, almost in slow motion, landed directly in my path just a few inches away
It was a butterfly.
A brightly bold and beautiful blue butterfly.
I stood there for a moment in awe, admiring its color and the shape of its wings. What an unexpected surprise, I thought, and continued walking, careful to avoid it.
After taking a couple of steps, curiosity led me to turn around to see the butterfly resting in the exact same spot.
I returned slowly, keeping my distance, while the butterfly remained unmoved. I found it unusual because, in my experience, butterflies tend to fly away when approached. But this one did not.
Something inside told me to trust what was happening. I quietly turned on my camera, metered for light, and took a picture.
Nothing.
So, I stepped closer and took another picture to capture more detail of its wings.
Again, it remained still with tremendous poise and patience.
Finally, I decided to press my luck and move even closer, just a few inches away, to get one more picture.
Click.
I got it.
Grateful, I walked away with my camera left on and metered, ready for any other wonderful discoveries I might encounter.
Later that day, I decided to revisit the photo. What emerged wasn’t just the admiration that I felt at the park, but understanding of what the encounter meant. As I looked at the image and reflected, I was able to gain a higher perspective of what had actually happened. At the start, my mind had already decided there was nothing to find on that familiar trail. Yet something in me had stayed open anyway. I had turned back. I had trusted. I had followed the pull to photograph. This ritual of returning, of trusting, of looking closer held all of that evidence that despite my mind’s prediction, my heart had refused to close.
And that’s when the deeper reflection surfaced.
I thought about my own life. How easily I can close myself off to possibilities simply by deciding in advance what is or isn’t available to me. Not necessarily because of reality, but because my inner door is closed to receiving possibilities.
On that day, something deep inside held on to that spark of hope, even when I didn’t realize it. It was as if my mind just needed time to catch up to my heart in that moment.
I felt grateful that despite my mind’s prediction that nothing was available to discover, my attention to what surrounded me proved that my heart remained open to possibilities.
I considered the likely alternative. I might not have looked down to see what had presented itself to me as a gift because I had already decided there were none to be found.
And I’m so glad that I didn’t.
*This came from my noticing practice. Join my email community at BluSol Studio where I'm currently exploring how to share this ritual so you can practice it too.
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