Homebodies - Surrounded by life, do we really see our world?

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Published on Sunday, November 8, 2015

By Rita Friesen

The Neepawa Banner

The presentation was part of an all day seminar. The topic was compassion. Interesting presenters and a thought provoking group of people.

It was a short video clip. Two young fish were swimming along. An older fish approached and asked, “How’s the water?” As the senior fish swims away, the young ones continue for a second before one turns to the other and asks, “What the * is water?”

How often do we get so busy, so caught up in the daily grind, or so worn down, that we don’t notice our environment? Surrounded by life, do we really see our world? This reflection did exactly what it was supposed to do. It made me wonder how blind I am to what is going on around me. Am I unheeding and unmindful of the blessings and wonders that fill my world? Am I always looking for the next great adventure, the next goal – short term or long term – not being present for the wonders of right now? Is the agenda of the week more than I can bear? And this is from someone who is not balancing family and career, not rushing off to school events and social commitments. 

I devotedly hope not! I pride myself on my observation of the people and life around me. And just saying that “I pride myself” sounds presumptuous! I do take time to marvel at the turning of the seasons, the marvels of creation. I try to see the person beside, ahead or behind me when I move through my day. Some of the most delightful exchanges are unexpected visits at the post office or gas station! I attempt to note the general emotions of the folks in my world. Whether their day is going well or not. Small gestures of kindness, a door held open, a driver giving way to me, or the courtesy extended – even if required- by a clerk or server. Thank you and please trip lightly from my lips, a smile is shared with a stranger. Little rays of light in a shadowed world.

But – and there’s the word that changes a conversation! But there are days when my grief, my sorrow, my introspective nature, closes my eyes to all the marvels of my world. The pressures of what must be done and what should be done, and what could be done, come crowding. And so, I expect, it is for most people. We are not a careless or ignorant bunch. We are fellow travellers on our journeys. There will be times, too many I fear, when I stop and ask myself, “How’s the water?” and pause long enough to know that it is the life and breath around me. May I not wake up on morning wondering, “What the * is water?”