A closed mind is like a closed door, you’ll never see the other side. . . and it may hide from you the unexpected.
I met this nice lady at the Mind Body and Soul Fayre, Pat was a ‘knowing’ person to whom I sensed worth listening. She told me, intuitively, ‘Go to the park at dawn, keep an open mind, look up’.
For some reason known only to the inner me, it all made sense. I determined to go the very next day. I set the alarm so as not to miss the sunrise. Several times during the night I would awake and think through the meeting of the dawn, realise it was still too early and return to sleep, wondering if I’d still hear the alarm when the real event was imminent and not the pretend one of day dreams.
The alarm sounded as I was already awake again. As I got up and dressed in warm street clothes I noticed how bright the sky was already. Had I missed the dawn? What was dawn? Is dawn when the first light appears? Our expectation of what dawn will be like is different to the reality. I considered this as the first lesson and that the second lesson was being prepared, to expect the unexpected, as I scraped ice off of my car windscreen, wondering if this delay would rob me of the planned dawn visit. I arrived before sunrise but the first signs of sunrise did not come from the expected direction, in fact the exact opposite. Sunshine from below the distant horizon shone on high clouds in the west, the reflected light brightening the sky. It was not what I had expected, though I was keeping my mind open and observing all I could. Instinct took me along a path I had many times viewed but never followed. The Park was much bigger than I expected, surprisingly bigger.
I saw some beautiful views, fast and low flying birds, mist in the trees on the horizon, early morning ducks feeding on the water’s edge as the incoming tide made the river deeper, all this and more.
I stopped to take a photograph and very soon was surrounded by a flock of seagulls, they too had expectations. . . and on this occasion they were not met, no free food from this visitor.
As I returned towards the town I wondered if my ancestors had walked this path themselves, and seen the church tower and trees lit by the golden light of sunrise.
I saw a small bird in the water; it was a little Grebe, my first sighting, though having seen many a great crested grebe before. The little Grebe dived gracefully for food and having disappeared along with any ripples too it was as though it never was. I considered this too among my many lessons that morning. We may not see it, it may remain hidden but we know it was there and indeed is there. Should we point this out to another who did not see the Grebe on the surface, they may doubt that anything was ever there. Therefore, keep an open mind, what you might expect may not come, what you didn’t may. . . and not from a place you might suppose, it may be bigger than you ever imagined, it may be hidden from your eyes but not from your knowing.
I must make two visits to this park; I have made one and now must plan the next. . . with still open mind.