By Tabitha Bozeman
I have spent the last month exclaiming about the leaves on the trees every time I am outside or driving. In fact, I have mentioned the leaves so frequently that my girls started finishing my sentences and rolling their eyes. But, I can’t help but be excited about seeing the tiny leaf buds grow larger and fuller. The branches that were bare just a few weeks ago are suddenly heavy with lacy greenery. It annoys my children, but being aware of the changes from season to season is something I love to practice because Spring is not just a season of growth. It is also a season of visibility.
Last week, I was surprised by a bright white iris that popped up in the middle of a clump of dark purple irises that had already stopped blooming. The flowers share the same roots and dirt, but they bloomed in their own time. Those little surprises are part of Spring’s beauty and joy.
Awareness also makes visible things that are not so lovely: a wasp nest in a mailbox, litter on the side of the road, someone hurting someone helpless. April is National Child Abuse Prevention month, and there are little blue pinwheels out all over town. These little toys grab your eye as you drive by, but they are more than one more pretty Spring decoration. They are a reminder to be aware of the environment we create for the children in our lives and world. Awareness requires that we pay attention, then, not only to the beautiful, but to the difficult, painful, and sometimes unlovely things around us. Sometimes, awareness is care that makes the unseen visible so that situations can improve and growth can occur.
Growth is a perpetual goal of mine, and each season of life it has looked a little different. Sometimes growth looks like paying attention, sometimes it is making necessary things visible, and sometimes it is taking time to support someone who is making a difference in the world the way only they can. This week, I received my copy of The Smallest of Joys by Diane Shiffer, also known as the Vintage Nana on social media. She has created and curated a hopeful, lovely, visible presence of love and joy in an often dark and heavy world. She first grabbed my attention when I saw a video of her drinking tea from a jadeite teacup that reminded me of my grandmother’s kitchen. As I listened to her share her daily “sit and stare” ritual while the video showed her collection of vintage doilies and trinkets, her message of finding joy and hope and peace in the world we create around us resonated with me.
Awareness of flowers, children, books, videos, and one another requires attention. Sometimes the work of the season we are in is learning to be aware, to see what has been there all along.
Mary Oliver reminds us “To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.” We must pay attention on the loveliest of days, and in the hardest of circumstances. We must acknowledge the ugliness that exists alongside the beautiful: “Death waits for me, I know it, around
one corner or another. This doesn’t amuse me. Neither does it frighten me. After the rain, I went back into the field of sunflowers. It was cool, and I was anything but drowsy.I walked slowly, and listened to the crazy roots, in the drenched earth, laughing and growing.”
