Pulsating life – molecules, atoms, blood cells, bone marrow.
When peeling back the out shell – skin, flesh, fur, cell wall – what is found inside?
Life happening – hearts beating – muscles contracting – pushing, pulling – creating movement of digestion processes – nutrients being delivered – across layers of systems for the functioning of the body – electrical impulses snapping, popping, sparks of fire – stimulation – not just to get moving but a reminder that we are already moving – moving, growing – since the day of conception.
Life is happening – it is active – it is exposed to the naked eye as a shell that encapsulates the network of vital systems in a variety of manifest forms, colors and textures.
With our naked eye what do we spy? is anything that has life just a color to behold? A texture to feel? A shape to toss about? like a brown empty box in the trash or a miss matched white sock who has lost its partner?
Of course not is the indignant response of many – but isn’t it amazing how we do just that when we look at other parts of creation – of life – how we make judgements on vital life process by the shape of their shell or color of their form. Who declared a dandelion a weed to be eradicated but a rose to be revered? Are not both full of life and abundance of glorious color?
Why is it so difficult to see that what stands before us is life – life of flesh and bone, beating hearts and blood, life giving fluid that spill forth when the shell has been compromised?
Why is it so difficult to see that which stands before us as life, with a unique identity that is as individual to itself as a finger print? And that print, when it touches another object doesn’t leave behind a swash of color or a marker of gender; No, it leaves behind a marker, a legacy of its unique identity saying, I was here and I touched your life today, or I shared a study space with you, or we worked together or played games, or I ate at the table with you, we shared in the nourishment of life together. The list can go on…
It is an illusion of the mind, a training technique we have conditioned ourselves to focus upon, when we only spy with our little eye the color and shape of a thing. We miss all the beautiful imprints upon our lives and those prints which we leave with others.
Can we change our focus? Can we readjust the lens of our glasses? We don’t need them to be rose colored, we just need them to focus in on the finger prints of imprints, of impact in our lives, to have a dissected view, which shifts us beyond what we have always seen and into the depths of what lies beyond the horizon of our thoughts.
This is my dissected view.
Artwork is from the “Creative Coloring Mandalas” color design is inspired by Psalm 8.