Always remember: Your focus determines your reality.
George Lucas
This
past weekend, we drove to two of our summer pastures to check cattle. On Saturday, at the Ninnescah, the cattle were hidden in the pasture's abundant nooks and crannies. But we didn't see any cattle tracks in the road. Unlike last year, our summer hasn't been filled with every-other-day phone calls from people in that area, telling us that our perennial group of escapees had absconded once again. (You may recall those rascals went to the sale barn last fall when we eventually caught them.)
Looking east
As
usual, I had my camera along for the ride. While we didn't get to see the cattle, but we did stop at one of my favorite photo spots, a small wooden bridge over the Ninnescah River.
Looking west
Just south of the pasture, I spied a large windmill near the intersection. With the cloudy sky
forming an interesting backdrop to the north and west, I asked Randy to stop instead of
making the lefthand turn he had planned. He's used to such requests.
We stopped in the middle of the intersection. It isn't a well-traveled road. And, even if some other farmer came along to check his own crops or cattle, we would have plenty of warning with the flat landscape stretching in every direction.
I noticed a couple of fence posts left behind - probably from an abandoned loading chute - and decided to frame the windmill in a different way.
After clicking a few frames of the windmill with both my Nikon and my camera phone, I noticed the a few sunflowers creating a splash of color in the ditch nearby. Looking closer, I noticed how the shape of the sunflower mimicked the shape of the windmill blades and added even more images to my memory card.
When we got home, I downloaded the photos and clicked through the images, now much larger on my computer screen.
And I discovered a couple of different things. In some of them, the camera had focused on the sunflower, so the flower was in crisp focus and the windmill was just a shape in the background.
In others, the windmill was in sharp focus, blurring the flower itself. Sometimes, the camera chose the close-up view. Other times, it chose the view at the horizon. And, no, the operator did not notice at the time.
My later inspection also revealed I should have paid closer attention to the sunflower I chose for the close-up. Its petals were buffeted by the wind and seemed to have provided a plentiful buffet for insects who had munched the yellow bloom. I wished I'd chosen a more model-worthy specimen.
At the time, I was more concerned about the shape of the flower and the windmill blades. It was only later that I focused on the details. Unfortunately, I've had that happen before when taking photos. I always think I'll learn from my miscues. And I usually do ... for awhile.
The next day, when we visited our Rattlesnake Pasture, I made sure I was focused on a large, intact bloom.
I did notice that the flowers were giving me their backsides in the shot below, but sunflowers turn toward the sun ... or the direction the light would be on a sunny day, at least. But since the bulls were giving me a pretty shot anyway, I was happy with the splash of color on an overcast day.
But let's face it: Give me a few weeks, and I will inevitably go back to my old ways and forget to pay close attention to the details.
Isn't that a metaphor for life itself? We can get stuck viewing life through a particular lens. We see life, people and God through that internal lens called
attitude and perspective.
There are many things that can and will blur the focus of our lives. Distorting our focus are judgment, prejudice, anger, resentment, jealousy, fear, hurt, offense,
ingratitude and a lot of other "stuff."
These give us the wrong images of life, people and God.
Unfortunately, when our focus has become blurred by such things, we accept this warped view as reality, when it’s actually the
projection of our own experience, pain and problems. This sets us up for wrong
reactions, bad decisions and even some mental and emotional
misery.
A favorite Bible verse has this to say about where my focus should be:
Brothers and sisters,
whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is
pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent
or praiseworthy—think about such things.Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.
Philippians 4: 8-9
Back in my voice lesson days, my teacher assigned the song, "Think On These Things." Even though I cleaned out a lot of music when I downsized my office shelves, I kept that particular piece of music because I love the message so much.
It's old enough that I couldn't find the Merle Miller Sacred Songs arrangement (1947) on YouTube, but I did find a high school choir singing a different - yet equally beautiful - song based on the same Bible verses.
Here we are in a pandemic. News stories this week have talked about a "twin-demic" which could happen as winter approaches and brings our usual influx of garden-variety flu on top of Covid-19.
Coupled with rioting and the political rhetoric that bombards us from all sides as the election approaches, it's sometimes hard to focus on anything other than gloom and doom and "noise."
So a quiet trip to a beautiful places to "think on these things" is a good start.
It's not that we get rid of the noise or the things that mar our vision. If you look carefully in the photo above, there's an old drainage pipe that makes the scene just a little less lovely.
Maybe it's a matter of stepping back just a little bit and taking in the whole picture (and hiding that old pipe with a few more pretty purple flowers by using a different angle). Or maybe it's focusing on the even the smallest things ...
... the intricate petals of individual flowers ...
... like tiny blue flowers, hiding in pasture grasses ...
... like cattle (where they are supposed to be), enjoying plentiful grass - even in the late summer ...
... imagining the fisherman who left this fishing pole behind so he/she would be ready for next time ...
... wildlife at nearby Quivira National Wildlife Refuge ...
... and picture-postcard scenery in my own "neck of the woods ...
Do I need to readjust my focus? Sometimes, it's as simple as taking time to really look ... and to start to "think on these things" instead.
The Message puts Philippians 4 in even clearer terms:
8-9 Summing
it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and
meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling,
gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to
praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from
me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes
everything work together, will work you into his most excellent
harmonies.
After my walk, I stopped at the pear tree to pick a few stranglers. I used my t-shirt as a make-shift gathering basket, and when I glanced down after one slipped from my grasp, I saw the monarch butterfly at my feet.
It was feeding on a rotting pear that had fallen from the branches. Even a pear barreling toward it didn't move it from the sweet treat. The sweet nectar had also attracted a bevy of other marauders. Even with the striking orange and black of the majestic butterfly poised there, I couldn't get past the ugly insects, despite the green iridescence on paper-thin wings.
I'd seen another butterfly float on the wind currents as I'd walked down the road earlier, but it didn't sit still for a close-up. Arrrgh, I thought! Why couldn't it have perched on a branch or found a flower from which to draw its sustenance? Who wants to look at a rotting pear and dirty flies, even when they have a beautiful visitor in their midst? Certainly not me!
It finally lighted on a leaf long enough that I could snap a more pleasing fall portrait, complete with green pear leaves and a yellow cottonwood leaf. I could still hear the buzzing of the ravenous insect world, chowing down on the rotting fruit, but I could ignore it through the view finder, focusing instead on the stained-glass-like traits of the royal butterfly as it paused before migrating on.
So what's the message? Should I be overlooking the "ugly"? Or is it more honest to report the bad with the good? Nobody has a Perfect 10 day all the time, but I tend to report the more positive spin on life, rather than focusing on the negative.
I saved an email devotional awhile back. It said:
The only difference
between stumbling blocks and stepping stones
is the way in which we use them.
–Anonymous
Taken in Yellowstone National Park - 2011
So maybe it is better to see the stepping stones and the butterflies in life, even when they come disguised as stumbling blocks or complete with pesky flies.
A Time to Pray (also from the devotional):
God, just for today, let me see only the good. Give me the eyes of faith, the heart of hope.
***
I'm linked today to Jennifer Dukes Lee's Tell His Story feature on her blog. Click on the link to check it out!
A drought of thankfulness can leave a soul as dry as the prairie grasses in our pastures. Like the curled, brown leaves on the drought-stricken milo stalks, ungratefulness leaves us brittle and used up, not much good for anything other than complaining.
When I was in high school, I was in a play. I honestly don't remember the name of it. What I do remember is a line I delivered:
"Oh woe is me! Oh lack-a-day!"
I certainly wasn't competing with Meryl Streep for an Academy Award, though I did fool my Grandpa Neelly who didn't know me behind the stage makeup and the gray hair.
Wouldn't it be great if another reason he didn't recognize me was because the "woe-is-me" attitude was so foreign to my nature?
We all face droughts. It may be a literal drought like we've experienced on the farm these past two summers. It may be a drought caused by worry, loss, death, heartache, a family situation, illness or another curveball from just living life. It's easy to get caught up in the lack instead of the abundance.
“The real voyage of discovery consists of not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.”
Norman Vincent Peale
After we rode the 4-wheeler across the dry pastures, my ever-optimistic husband said, "Let's go fishing!" It's good to live with a glass-half-full kind of guy. It was a cooler day, one where the thermometer wasn't racing its way upwards past the 100-degree mark.
As I sat by the river with my feet up and the fishing pole dangled in the water, a few hymns drifted through my mind, like the clouds that floated across the sky giving a few moments of relief.
When I opened my church bulletin the next morning, the very first song was one that provided my afternoon mental soundtrack, All Things Bright and Beautiful.
All things bright and beautiful
All creatures great and small
All things wise and wonderful
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens
Each little bird that sings
God made their glowing colors
And made their tiny wings
The purple-headed mountains,
The river running by,
The sunset and the morning
That brightens up the sky.
The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden
God made them every one.
God gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell.
How great is God Almighty
Who has made all things well.
Wishing you a day when you see the abundance and not the drought!
I love the brightly colored piano they've added to the decor at Cool Beans, a restaurant at the depot in Hutchinson.
And, as we start 2011, I think it's a good reminder:
Life is one sweet song. So start the music.
The music of 2011 is cued up and ready to go. But it's up to us to decide whether the music is a dirge or a dance tune.
My sister sent me an email about attitude. Though I'm usually one to clear out my in box promptly, I've saved this one. It's a good reminder to me. I hope you will take it to heart, too:
***
There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.
'Well,' she said, 'I think I'll braid my hair today.' So she did, and she had a wonderful day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she had only two hairs on her head.
'H-M-M,' she said, 'I think I'll part my hair down the middle today.' So she did, and she had a grand day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head.
'Well,' she said, 'today I'm going to wear my hair in a ponytail.'
So she did, and she had a fun, fun day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head. 'YAY!' she exclaimed. 'I don't have to fix my hair today!'
Attitude is everything.
Be kinder than necessary,
for everyoneyou meet is fighting some kind of battle.
Live simply,
Love generously,
Care deeply,
Speak kindly,
and pray continually.
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...
It's about learning to dance in the rain.
***
And that's my prayer for you as you begin 2011. Let the music begin!
Life according to Annie: "You're never fully dressed without a smile."
"Who cares what they're wearing On Main Street or Saville Row? It's what you wear from ear to ear And not from head to toe that matters."
It was easy to smile last week when I collected on my birthday present, one that was definitely worth waiting for. Randy got me tickets to Music Theatre of Wichita's production of "Annie."
I didn't realize it until we got to Century II, but the tickets were on the second row.
Leapin' Lizards! It was close enough to check out the orchestra pit just by standing up. And you could see every expression on every actor's face.
It was this musical lover's dream come true! Even better, he didn't have to pay extra for the seats.
If you leave a performance of "Annie" with a frown on your face, it must be a really bad day. The whole musical is filled with optimism in the face of a "Hard-Knock Life."
Our Wichita trip also gave me a change of pace, so to speak, on my daily walk.
I couldn't believe it when I saw the hay bales just off the walking path behind the Marriott. (We are usually more Motel 6 or Super 8-type people, but the Marriott was where the Wheat Profit Maximizer summit was held, and that's the real reason we were going to Wichita in the first place. More on the wheat profit event in tomorrow's blog ...).
Some farmer had to get through the traffic on Webb Road in Wichita to bale this little field of Johnson grass. I didn't envy him, but it sure made me feel at home.
It was a beautiful morning for a walk, with the sun just peaking out and making a drainage area look more like a picturesque oasis.
I'm used to finding hidden treasures along the way as I walk. Among the grasses was this pretty purple flower being explored by a brilliantly-colored insect.
I had a great walking companion, too.
Wichita was the perfect little getaway.
But then it was back to reality. Sometimes reality is a little hard to smile at.
I must admit it was a little tough to find my inner "Annie" after about 3 hours on the phone with my internet provider this weekend. Nothing like trying to converse with customer service people in India to ruin a day.
My hubby suggested a break, so I rode with him to check rain gauges and pastures.
And who can stay upset when surrounded by a beautiful sky like this one?
It took a walk to straighten out my attitude and realize that Annie was right: The sun will come out tomorrow. (Who knows what time that happens in India, but that's another story, right?)
It was just another instance when it doesn't hurt to live with an eternal optimist. The rain over the weekend seemed to mirror my mood - dark and stormy and a little indignant after my customer "service" nightmares.
And, yes, it rained again on our swathed hay. Pretty much every bit of hay we've put down this year has been rained on. (You can send your thank you notes for your timely rainfalls to The County Line!)
But again, it was just in time to help the milo crop. There had been a few heads popping up in the field. The rain will help fill the heads with grain.
It gave the emerging sudan feed crop a great drink of water.
It helped green up the pastures after a week of 100-degree-plus weather.
So, with a little help from the hubby and glimpses of beauty on The County Line, I guess I'm back to being more like Annie and less like the nasty Miss Hannigan in the play.
I will endeavor to keep it up. Hope your day produces its share of smiles, too!
Is the glass half full or half empty? Is a rain good or bad?
Is everything black or white? Or are there some subtle shades of gray?
These are the things I ponder as I walk along our country roads. Nature provides lots of illustrations about life in general, if you just open your eyes and your heart.
As I walked yesterday morning at 7 AM, I was sure it was going to rain. It smelled like rain. The air was heavy with moisture. The blue skies overhead seemed swollen and pregnant with raindrops.
I have to admit: I was grumbling a little bit about the possibility that it might rain. Sure, it was making for pretty scenery while I walked. That blue sky against the golden wheat? It's the stuff of picture postcards from Kansas and June calendar pages.
But we aren't done with wheat harvest. I didn't particularly want an interruption that would stretch it out even further.
However, you must remember that I live with the eternal optimist. Even though he wasn't with me, I could hear him whispering in my ear: "A little rain would be good for the milo. Rain makes the pastures grow. Rain will help the alfalfa crop."
Winston Churchill once said: "Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference." I've seen that quote on more than one classroom wall.
It's probably with good reason.
When I shifted my perspective, my eyes were opened to other beauty.
Thanks to the rains which delayed harvest for nearly a week before we ever got started, the milo is starting to shoot up.
It's grown several inches since I took the photos of the first shoots just peeking through the ground. Further along my way, I saw the neighbor's dryland corn. There's no irrigation system to make sure it gets enough moisture, so a rain would help his crop, too.
The alfalfa will be ready to swath again once we get wheat harvest out of the way. It, too, was nourished by the rains a week and a half ago.
By the time I walked home, the skies were clearing. I had been wasting time worrying about something that wasn't going to happen anyway. Chalk up another lesson from nature.
So, with my mind's soundtrack playing Three Dog Night's "Black and White" in the background, I again considered: Is the glass half full or half empty?
I think I'll side with my husband who always seems to find the glass full to overflowing.
And with Charles Swindoll:
"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company ... a church ... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes.”
Charles R. Swindoll
I pray you will find your glass full today - whether you are in the midst of harvest stress or just living life with all its peaks and valleys.
