There really is magic everywhere, but I often either don’t see it or don’t really “take it in” to my heart. I’m discovering that this has been because I have a habit of thinking about where I’m going, rather than being where I am, as I move through my life.

This is such a simple discovery, but I am finding that my life is so much richer for it, by bucket loads!

This year I’m committed to experiencing my Best Year Ever, by allowing myself a different rhythm and a different quality of attention in my life.

This male cardinal frequently sits in this honeysuckle, and until now, when I see him, I have had a kind of “duly noted,” in-my-head response to seeing him, even though he always catches my eye. My response is probably developed from years of being a bird watcher, and coming from a keeping-track-of-what’s-out-there perspective.

Today, I allowed myself to sit down and really take him in from my heart, realizing what a miracle of color and beauty he is, and how much he animates the otherwise quiet winter landscape. I really took the time to let sink in how much I appreciate his presence in my yard.

This year I’m cultivating my Best Year Ever by paying a different kind of attention to my life.

The morning sun lit up this ice crystal landscape on a window, to my delight. Five minutes later it was gone, having melted in the warmth of the rising sun.

This year I’m exploring: What if the Best Year Ever can be about the attention I pay to my life, rather than circumstances, achievements, or events?

 

 

Magic is everywhere. I only need to be present to my life so I can see it when it appears, which is exactly what the Best Year Ever is about for me.

Riding in the car the other day (yes, riding, not driving) :-), I suddenly noticed a play of light. It lasted only a minute, but it was beautiful in its color and unexpectedness.

I feel like these are love letters from Spirit. This year, I want to open them.

Here is something I’m graced with every sunny afternoon in winter, because the sun shines through the west windows really strongly and clearly when the leaves are down. The light streams through some crystals that I have hanging in the windows. Instant rainbows.

Today, because I’m becoming addicted to all of the brilliant, “ordinary” miracles in my life, I stopped to really take it in and relish it. Best Year Ever.

Walking my dog. One of the most ordinary, and at the same time, extraordinary, things I do every day.

I’m enjoying my Best Year Ever, merely because I am choosing to pay attention to my life in more present way.

That’s not as easy as you might think, for me, anyway.

This is a scene that I have probably been gifted with thousands of times before, and I have never seen it.

Today, I noticed Cinn’s shadow, walking along, animated, exuberant! And I thought, Best Year Ever.

Catching the moments is what makes this the Best Year Ever.

I used to let them pass by, because my attention would be on something inside my head, that usually had little to do with the miracle dance that was occurring right in front of me in my “ordinary” life.

I’m learning to pay acute attention to what is right in front of me. Interesting that I need to learn something that we are born with. I guess that is the lesson of mindfulness.

Here’s a sky painting, courtesy of Nature herself. Pay careful attention, because it will change in the next few seconds.

I’m enjoying my Best Year Ever because I have decided to pay attention to my life with a level of attentiveness that has heretofore been elusive to me.

Today’s delight is a small patch of snow that I discovered nestled in a shady spot among some grasses, where all of the other snow had already melted. It caught me by surprise.

I loved it because, when I saw it, I imagined a very small, parched creature coming upon it and finding a tiny gift in the drought we had been having.

It made me realize that there are hidden worlds everywhere, that we never notice. And yet they are right there, all along, when we open our eyes to see.

The latest installment in my Best Year Ever comes from seeing something in a new light, literally.

When the sun comes to the point of due East in the fall, the light shines directly into my office, and through this mosaic that I made 10 years ago.

It’s been hanging there for those 10 years, and has, sadly, become part of the background of my life.

Not today, when it caught my attention in a new way. The turtle came alive and I noticed it. That’s really the celebration, that I noticed it. I know that we are given these gifts every day, and all I need to do is to pay attention more fully.

These leaves caught my attention as I was coming back up my driveway to the house this morning.

I walk by them everyday, but today I noticed their luminosity. It was as if there was a light within them, projecting out their inner beauty.

I thought about how each one of us has a light shining within us. This felt like an invitation to all of us to let our inner light shine.