right in front of my eyes

If you happen to be one of my Facebook pals, you might have seen a video that I shared this week.  Or, if you are like a gazillion other people, you may have already be familiar with this one.  I, however, had never seen it and I was gung-ho to perform correctly.  Let's pause for a moment so you see what I'm chattering about.

So, how'd you do?  Did you count the correct number of passes?  I did.  I was so proud, just like I am when I know which cup the little ball is under on the jumbo-tron at a baseball game.  But guess what?  I had absolutely no awareness of the surprise factor.  (Just another reason why it's a good thing I'm a walker/bus rider and not a driver, perhaps.)

While I was lying in bed the other night, I was thinking about this video, and just before that moment when I was going to pass from coherent, conscious thought to the crazy world of dreamland, I suddenly had a super clear thought.  This video's message can be taken in a lot of ways, including the intended message to watch out for cyclists (and don't forget about us pedestrians, too!), but suddenly these words were ringing in my ears:

we only see what we're looking for

My mind went right to the things that I had corrected the children on that day-- morning and afternoon routines with JAM have been nightmarish since the beginning of the school year.  Staying on task and focused in a timely manner is not his strong suit, and I've been critical of him along the way during these times when he's goofing off or just distracted beyond measure.  Red and Pudge have been at each other's throats lately, too, and it seems that I'm constantly sending one or the other to "the step" for pushing or grabbing toys or just being plain obnoxious to the other.

But that video got me thinking.  Am I only seeing what I'm looking for?

Have I made enough notice of the other things?  How about when I was busy with dinner prep today and Red offered to help Pudge with that insanely tricky post-potty step of pulling up his undies?  Did I really see that?  What about the fact that JAM sat down on the floor of the community center hallway during Red's dance class yesterday afternoon and did his math homework without one little fuss?  Did that get noticed?  Am I too busy seeing Pudge's naughty two-year-old moments to see all those times when his humor and loving manner make a huge difference in our family?

The answer is clear to me.  I've got to stop counting the passes and be aware of what's really happening around me, because when that silly giant bear comes moonwalking by, I need to see it.  And acknowledge it.  And take joy in the moment. 


Trying to keep my eyes wide open,