I am at the beach. It is a happy kind of place. The sounds of the waves and soft ocean breeze is freeing. I have intentionally unplugged as I reflect on the year that was and recharge for the year the waits ahead.
The change of perspective does me good. The ocean waves are far different than the waves of wheat that I am accustomed to on the Praire.
Morning walks on the beach are the best. They rate close to the magnificent sunsets that are on display as I take in the sights and sounds that dance before me on the sanding white shoreline.
On this particular morning I kept an eye out for a stray shark’s tooth, spindle shell or a message in a bottle! Wouldn’t that be cool?
There in the distance an object caught my eye. It stood out. It looked different and was larger than most discoveries I have made.
Upon closer inspection, there, sitting on the surface of the sand was a unique pair of folded sunglasses. I gently procured my find from the dampened shore of the perfectly smooth coast line.
Who did these sunglasses belong to? Were they local in nature or had they drifted across the sea from some distant shore?
Whatever the source, the freedom they found from an otherwise inviting face had been sometime ago. How do I know? The sunglasses were covered in barnacles and sea algae. What had once provided a clear and crisp perspective was now covered with impeding guests that dimmed an ideal outlook.
Out of curiosity, I was tempted to try the sunglasses on for size. My better judgement prevailed but the thought brought a deeper reflection. Have I been seeing life through a limited perspective? Had I taken on barnacles that were limiting my outlook? Was I, in my own way, lost at sea? Washed up? Had I drifted off course?
About the time I was about to toss the sunglasses back into the waves, I hesitated. I decided to hold onto my new seaside sunglasses and have them serve me as a reminder to keep my head up, my mind open and my heart available for new and better ways of seeing things.
I never want to find myself so set in my ways that I get comfortable with my blind spots. Hopefully, I have learned enough in life to know I have yet more to learn.
For now, I’m heading back to my little beach abode on the shoreline. There is a sea mist gently blowing in. My glasses are fogging over and my lenses are in need of a good cleaning. I’d hate to miss the view and a clear line of sight as the sun sets on yet another marvelous day.
What great reminders and perspectives we can discover when we look at things in a different way and a new point of view. Blinders come in all shapes and sizes and have a way of limiting all we are meant to be.