Seeing the Everyday

I took a watercolor class in college that met in the early evening. As I left class one evening, I noticed things I had not before: rainbows in the water droplets under a streetlight, the curve of the moon tracing the outline of Squaw Peak, and the sound of my wheels treading in rhythm with distant laughter. In art class, I could not trace a line without studying its curves and shapes intently. In so doing, I began to see it for the first time. Those skills transferred to all that my senses took in on that night.

I have thought about that experience again and again. If only I could Learn to See. Always. All the time!

A year ago, I received a random magazine in my mailbox. It was called "Seeing the Everday." The editorial intent is to educate people to see the extraordinary in their seemingly mundane interactions. It was filled with quotes like, "It's not about making a cake, dinner or any other number of important things we can spend our time doing. It is, however, about making a child. A unique, one-of-a-kind, significant, individual." It drew me in with articles entitled, "Blessed weeding" or "Old, used grain bags" or "Going the extra 30 miles."

Shortly after this unexpected gift of sight, Elder Uchtdorf gave a talk called "Happiness, Your Heritage." He said, "The bounds of creativity extend far beyond the limits of a canvas or a sheet of paper and do not require a brush, a pen, or the keys of a piano. Creation means bringing into existence something that did not exist before—colorful gardens, harmonious homes, family memories, flowing laughter." . As you take the normal opportunities of your daily life and create something of beauty and helpfulness, you improve not only the world around you but also the world within you." He inspired me to Learn to See creation in the small things I do to beautify my home, my children, my life.

For me, this blog is a challenge to see anew. Not that I don't love being a mother, but I often slump into thinking my life consists of breakfast, dishes, lunch, dishes, dinner, and dishes, punctuated by Dora, diaper changing, and refereeing fights. If I am going to share "poetry in the prosaic," or find life in my lettuce pots, I too must Learn to See! With this blog invitation, I feel the challenge to see all the beauty in my children, even purpose in paint pots and peed out beds. So if you feel like me (that you don't have anything to share and you are not a creator), I issue this invitation to you as well: Learn to See with me!