I was listening to “Something Understood” this morning on Radio 4. This week’s presenter, Jane Ray, recounted this experience:
“I’m stuck at the lights,
It’s a foul day,
Driving rain.
I’m watching a shabbily-dressed Mum and her two kids. Soaked.
Lugging bags of shopping from the discount store.
And I see, against all my expectations,
Their pale faces radiate pure happiness in a shared joke.
And, it’s such a delicious shock,
That I can see them still”.
This has become somewhat of a recurring theme for me over recent years.
“I’m stuck at the lights,
It’s a foul day,
Driving rain.
I’m watching a shabbily-dressed Mum and her two kids. Soaked.
Lugging bags of shopping from the discount store.
And I see, against all my expectations,
Their pale faces radiate pure happiness in a shared joke.
And, it’s such a delicious shock,
That I can see them still”.
This has become somewhat of a recurring theme for me over recent years.
In the book “Listening to the Heartbeat of God”, Phillip Newell talks about the experience we have all had at different points in our lives of “missing the moment”. All too often, we are guilty of “looking, but not seeing” or “listening, but not hearing”.
Photo: geese in formation on a dawn estuary walk in Devon.
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