Whatcha looking for...?

It has come to my attention that we only see things that we are open to seeing. We will only recognize what may be blatantly in front of us if we willing acknowledge that form may exist in this world. What I mean is: if we don't believe something is possible, then in most cases, we won't allow ourselves to see it, even if it's blaringly obvious, right before our eyes.

Case in point: I have been covering for one of our walkers who has been out all week. Luckily, the weather has been relatively mild, and the route is in Georgetown, so I've had the luxury of getting paid to meander around some of the oldest parts of the city, taking in all of the gorgeous architecture, and having some time to think. At a few different points, I was taken aback when some sights caught me off guard. There had been a mammoth tree that had absorbed an antique wrought iron fence, making the tree appear to be molten lava slowing its pace after engulfing this nearby relic. It was amorphous, and viscus – something that never comes to mind when thinking about a tree.

It moved me enough to snap a quick photo with my cell, and keep walking, returning to the modest churnings of my morning. But then later the same day, I saw yet another prime example of this arborous envelopment – this time, a tree swallowed up a sign post still signaling away.

These sightings left me puzzled and quizzically wondering: if that is possible – if a tree can become almost liquid in its form, to grow ever so slowly, yet seemingly intentional in its overtaking of static objects – of what can I be capable if granted my own trajectory and a powerhouse of focused, willful force?

Clearly, when that tree was planted, no one had the forethought of wondering if this meager sapling would someday overtake the centuries old fencing that neighbored it. Nor did any of the civil workers assume that putting a "no parking sign" next to a young tree might later pose a threat to that post's fragility. But day after day, with effortless expansion and development, those trees became entities to reckon with... It's rare to perceive a tree as predatory, well unless your car may have been parked under one recently fallen in some sort of inexplicable extreme storm, or 'act of God," as they say. Here, it is not the sudden snap of a branch, the withering away of a rotted trunk that poses the threat. No, it is time elapsing, and the inevitability of growth and bourgeoning strength that secretly, and sneakily consume all that surround it.

I don't see myself as a predator, nor do I ever want to... But I think witnessing these anomalies helped me to understand that a mere obstacle need not stop our course. Obstructions can simply be assessed as we calculate our new bearings, and continue to navigate our way to our desired destinations. A tree doesn't *think*: "Grow this way! Go in that direction, there's something sharp over here!" No... Instead, it just grows, and modifies its form and path out of necessity – perhaps the path of least resistance.

Stumbling around these streets I've known for ten years suddenly woke me up to all that I may have been missing when I walked around so intent on one thing (like a golden parking spot – no, not a golden shower...). Concentrating on that one subject eclipsed everything else in the past, as if I lead myself astray, my eyes half closed. Having no specific focus yesterday helped me to truly immerse myself in my surroundings, and see all that has clearly existed for decades before my feet hit these cobblestone path ways. Things that have been there the hundreds of other times I had passed on by, yet I was too distracted to notice.

We only take in that of which we allow ourselves to see... (Which is also why people attest to seeing aliens, ghosts, their boyfriends flirting with other women at a club, or their wives with-holding affection.) We train our minds to seek out specific patterns. When we are in that computational mode, the answers can only be: "Yes, that flash of light appeared to be consistent with that of a UFO." Or: "No, your boyfriend has not emailed you back in three hours, and therefore it *feels* as though he is being distant and cold, like all the other times..." It can most often only be yay or nay, and very difficult to step outside of those predetermined catalogues of data our minds have filed away for us. (Maybe your boyfriend was busy planning a surprise birthday party for you while you assumed his unresponsiveness meant he was bored with you. Or that flash of light was a flare from a sailor in distress, not an alien space craft. But having never seen a flare, you'd only chalk it up to that 'other' category...)

So, my hope for today is that anyone who reads this can take a look around them, and really be open to simply witnessing their worlds objectively for even a few moments. Try to refrain from seeking out the specifics we already know, and just see what may be in there when we open ourselves up beyond our mind's eye. You never know what you might find.

And as for me, I'm off to work, and ready to contemplate all the ways I can expand, mature, and envelope this world around me, so that I can become a force with which to reckon! Ya, wish me luck out there!

All the best ~ Will