Observation on Perspective

As I was running last night on the path around the lake, I had been burdened with a heavy heart and negative thoughts, and fear about the upcoming IVF and anger about all of the failed attempts up to this point, this moment, this single moment that all at once had me aware of a sky filled with the beautiful color of evening light. It's been a long winter, a snowy winter, and now the snow is melting and everything, before it turns green and lush again, is messy, and muddy, with gritty sand everywhere.

But at this point, this moment, as I'm running in some of the last bit of winter's breath, the big puddles that have been serving as obstacles for me, are now holding the blue sky's reflection painted with clouds that don't look anything like winter. This puddle is large and the light seems silvery and incandescent. I'm taken by it, mesmerized, and with every step I'm taking running towards it, I watch the world bounce around. I'm delighted to see this beauty, it fills me up. I hadn't even really paid the attention to the evening sky that I should have, I was running, looking where I was feeling, down. Until that silly puddle caught my eye. I kept on running towards that puddle, now glancing skyward momentarily, to the original masterpiece, and then back again to the puddle.

I was gaining on the puddle now, and as I did so, the angle of incidence was changing, and so the image inside the puddle did as well. Then I was above the puddle, looking down, I stood there running in place, my pace slowing as I peered, and now what I saw, ALL I could see, was dark brown muddy water filled with grit and sand and blacktop texture. The glorious beauty had vanished...gone. I stopped running, but kept looking into that muddled puddle, and I started to cry.

What a lesson.

It was the same magical sky above, the same wet puddle at my feet, but it was merely my perspective that transformed what I saw and how I experienced it. I felt thankful. I began to run again, looking back at the puddle, watching the sky and the delicately rimmed clouds reappear.

I guess somedays it's that simple.

I also know tomorrow, or the next day, I may only be able to see the dirty, brown, muddy puddle, but if I keep moving, and keep growing, and keep trying, changing my perspective as I go, I feel like I know now that I'll see that beauty reappear.

Feel free to remind me of this on my dark days. I hope you all see the clouds today.