A Piece of Hope

Life is not a bed of roses;

neither is it full of thorns.

UNKNOWN

I don't suppose it's a surprise to anyone living on this planet. It doesn't take long for a person, even a child, to discover that life is not a bed of roses. Thankfully, neither is it completely full of thorns, even in the most horrid of situations. Or so I am told, as I personally haven't lived in some of the worst situations out there. But there are dear people who have lived through some and have survived some, who bear witness that, yes, there is still goodness, there is still beauty, there is still kindness in the midst of those wretched circumstances. And that brings hopefulness for any gloom-ridden day.

If you've followed this blog for any length, you know it's dedicated to the theme of living a beautiful life—focusing on what is beautiful and what gives hope in the world around us. None of us live in paradisal circumstances, at least not all the time. Sometimes life is pretty good, but when the ugly stuff gets too much in our faces, it's harder to hold onto what still adds grace to our lives. One thing I have learned over my longish life is to pray for grace... and to watch for the tiniest gifts that show up often in the smallest places. Sometimes they feel so inconsequential it's easy to overlook, but I began to practice watching for them, and I was surprised at how much beauty was out there, hiding in full view. 

When it comes to a garden..... it's not all a bed of roses either. Maybe that's why most of my floral photos are close ups, with only a few rarer panoramic views. First, I like the 'larger than life' style made famous by artist Georgia O'Keeffe who often painted her floral works in grand scale. She said if she painted a flower in a huge scale, people couldn't ignore its beauty. When it's in your face like that, it is hard to ignore, true. Second, perhaps more importantly for me, I like taking close ups because quite often the parts of the scene are nicer than the whole of it. Edmonton author/photographer Shawna Lemay once observed that close ups block out the vistas that are not lovely to look at. 

So, I focus on what's lovely and zone out what's unsightly. It's not pretending it's not there; it's just focusing on the better thing available in the moment. My sister told me about seeing a fellow online who kept bringing to the viewer's attention all the things in his yard that weren't to his personal liking, complaining about all that was wrong in it. She wondered why he focused so much on the unsightly areas when she could see so much that was pleasing.

If I were to pan the camera over my garden, you would see the same thing here, even in the height of summer when things are at their best. Some corners are quite Edenic in sensual loveliness, but alongside there are vistas in such contrast from our hoped-for dreams of a whole garden attuned in symmetry, colour, and design. As it turns out, it's just how life is sometimes. Imperfect. We don't mean to leave a reader with the idea that all is perfect in our world where we live; we're just happily focusing on what is lovely and zoning out what isn't.

In thornier times when my soul falters and frets—when my body is unwell, when my mind grows anxious for various reasons—I try to create a space that offers restfulness with something lovely to light my eyes upon. It helps me to get on with things if I can carry something beautiful in my heart. Which often means that I do close-ups in my mind, and here on my blog, of what is still lovely in some way. I tend not to offer the wide angle lens panorama, but search for what adds colour, interest, and gracefulness in the more intimate setting. And to give you, when you visit, a little respite in an upside down world. Kind of like in the mindset of the unknown author in this little verse:

I will always search for the ray of sunshine,

the lone wildflower,

the singing birds,

the brightest star,

and every other little piece of hope.

UNKNOWN

❦

Wishing you a weekend that's lovely—with as few

thorns as possible and with little pieces of hope to keep you going,

Brenda

Photo credits:

Brenda Leyland @ It's A Beautiful Life

"My Mom's Peace Rose"

Autumn blogging schedule:

I post on Fridays