Looking Up

HighLand Farm. Photo by a previous intern.

Today an old friend and I were walking through a pasture in the late morning, talking about our lives. We had just hiked a big hill at the back of the farm I am staying on-- a hill that leads down to a tidal river that leads out to the sea. By the time we reached the top of the hill we were pretty tired... we were hunched over, looking at our feet, trudging, and looking forward to when the walking would get a bit easier.

Once we crested the hill, I was able to focus more on the beauty of our surroundings. I love the way that the new leaves bring a green glow to the treetops in spring. I love the wind playing in my hair, the smell of springtime in the air, and the fact that I got to enjoy the day with one of my oldest friends in the world. I looked at those beautiful trees and exclaimed, "I just love that wash of green that you see in the tops of the trees this time of year!"

Tulip. HighLand Farm, Photo by Sarah Ferguson.

She knew exactly what I meant. It's like how I'm always telling people that turning on the tap and getting hot water is actually a crazy miracle. And how fascinating those little things that we take for granted can actually be. My friend frames these beautiful things with her camera, or crafts them with her hands, or learns everything about them so that she can hold them and their immaculate beauty in her mind forever. We can easily reflect on all of the wonder that life holds. We both understand that. It's important to us.

I've been thinking about it a lot lately: all of the beauty that life holds. I thought about it this morning when the sun shone in my window at dawn, and I think about it when I'm planting beautiful, healthy, delicious food every day. I thought about it today when asked who my best friends were. I could list them on one hand, starting with my sisters. And thought about it when I bought a book at the used book store this afternoon and started reading it, only to get distracted by an email from a friend who had purchased the exact same book today, and was writing to tell me about it. Amazingly, a major topic of this book is that coincidences aren't really coincidence at all. They are synchronicities. This Universe is full of them. It's lovely.

Me, Charlie and Scott, on HighLand Farm.
Photo by Sarah Ferguson.

My sister, and my friends, and my host here on the farm, we've all discussed it and we agree: there is so much beauty all around us. All we have to do is look up and see it. The people you meet or reconnect with have a purpose for you. They can show you something you didn't see. The friend who calls just when you were thinking about them has a message. You should listen. The song you haven't heard in years, the smell of lilacs in June, the question you asked in your head that got answered secondhand via your sister by an old teacher you haven't seen in years, and the guess you made that turned out to be true: it's all part of the miracle. You just have to look for it.

Grashopper in an onion blossom. HighLand Farm.
Photo by Sarah Ferguson.

Look up. See what's happening around you. Drop what you are doing. Stop thinking about your car, your mortgage, your drama, your job, your regrets. Stop worrying what people think about you. Stop hating what you can't change about them. Just stop. Change the way you think. Next time you have a choice, choose joy. Choose appreciation. Cut someone some slack. Accept that they are who they are, just as you are who you are, and that there is inherent beauty in it just the way it is. Allow your friends and family to have flaws, and believe that those flaws can teach you something valuable. Accept that you are right where you need to be doing exactly what you need to do.

Look up at the sun or the moon or the sky, and see infinity. This is what you are. We are part of the infinite wilderness, and it is infinite inside of us, and we can't change it or control it. We can only accept it and play our little part. And that's beautiful.

Your life will have its hills, and whether you like it or not, you will have to climb them. You can look down at your feet and be resigned to your fate, or you can look up and see the beauty of the journey. To me, the choice is simple. I hope you find yourself looking up too.