But Did You Let It Nourish You?
There is a park around the corner from me.
The sunsets there could make a poet out of any among us.
I have walked by this park as the sun settles in the west. Usually, I look up and think, That's nice. Then my head returns down and my thinking returns to whatever problem I'm trying to solve.
But what I've come to realize is that this kind of beauty deserves a full pause. For a few reasons, but the one at the top of my list today is this: Beauty like that nourishes us.
It feeds that part of us that quietly asks to be inspired, moved, lifted. Sunsets, canyons, moonlight in puddles, all that beauty carries us from where we are to some place a little wider and more vibrant. If we risk pausing to linger with it.
And the great irony of it all is that when I've paused, that beauty has been just the balm my problem-solving, often-rushing self needs, but wouldn't have known to ask for.
My head may return down, my thinking may return to the problem at hand. But my heart - it's fuller and softer.
These days, my practice with icicles in the winter sun and steam rising off the harbor waters is to gently ask myself:
Did I pause long enough to let that beauty nourish me?