July 2015

Turning off the water, I glanced up to the square window above the sink and just stopped to take a longer look in the morning almost light. I had been thinking about Frank and how I missed him. My eyes traced the patterns and edges of the tangled masses of greens and darks and lights. There on the slope behind my house grew the various leaves and twigs and occasional mosses and lichens that were the ubiquitous layer of untended tropical undergrowth. I had planted the red leaved plant months ago to introduce another color into the mix, but mostly it was Nature’s spontaneous medley of graceful grasses and lacy ferns that dominated the view. I liked it. In contrast to the front side of the house where the placement of each plant was carefully considered, this was a refuge of pure Natural whimsy. I especially liked the graceful branch that stood bare against the lively background.

Just as I was turning to reach for a towel, my eyes caught a movement and I spotted the dry leaf that was falling into my window framed view. It was carried on a whispered breeze and softly lighted on the fork in the bare branch. I held my breath. Surely it couldn’t stay in such a precarious position. But it did. Somehow, this fragile dry leaf found its way to a delicate pause on the exposed branch. It stopped moving. Quickly I got my camera from the other room, expecting that it would not be there when I returned. But it was. Though I could not see any way in which it was balanced or leveraged where it landed, it remained for another hour and begged me to look more closely.

My full attention was now directed upon this lovely leaf precipitously positioned on the bare branch. I thought how lucky I was to have watched it fall from a tree above. Though of course leaves fall all the time, how often do I actually get to see a single one glide on a  breeze to a temporary resting spot that is not the ground cover? I witnessed my own mind completely focused ‘in the moment’ and I felt wonderfully present. Alive.

Time seemed to stand still as I looked more closely at the leaf shape itself. The graceful curve of the upper end as it curled back upon itself created the suggestion of half a heart shape. And then I could imagine the truncated branch suggesting part of the other half. As soon as I recognized the heart shape there before me, I chose to see it as a silent message from Frank on the other side.

I wondered how many times have I not noticed? This world now is filled with distractions that continually take our attention away from the moment we are in. The television, Facebook, wifi, phones, worries about friends and family, concern about the latest assault – whether it is upon people, nature, the environment, animals, the planet…. We are drenched in distracting events and the ever present threat of the next catastrophe. It never ends.

I have heard often that we can choose to be happy – but that doesn’t seem to work for me. My brain seems to get all wrapped up in ‘what is happy?’ and refuses to ‘pretend’. As a visual person, it appears that my mind prefers to find meaning in something I see. It just seems to works better for me.

I believe that sometimes there are very subtle messages right close by that can only be received when we stay still long enough to allow our eyes and our hearts and minds to discover them. When I took the time to pause and look closely, I found that there was something more in what I saw. I got to choose how to see what was there.

I also believe this is an example of Synchronicity. Carl Jung invented the term ‘synchronicity’ in the 1920’s to explain meaningful coincidences. He believed that many experiences perceived as coincidence were not merely due to chance but suggested the manifestation of circumstances having to do with the ‘collective unconscious’ through which all human minds were connected, unconsciously. In other words – something much greater and more meaningful than mere coincidence.

This morning I saw a heart from Frank.

Thank you, dear Frank.