I spent nearly three years in counseling after my separation and divorce. And while I hate, hate, hate all that drove me there, the lessons I leaned, about myself, about how the heart works, and about how to live a far more mindful life, were invaluable. It’s a wonder to me that I got so far in life without them.

Perhaps one of the most useful lessons I learned was how, when things are overwhelming, to bring my focus down to the small things in life. The details and wonderment and small pleasures that are nearly always available to us, nearly always surround us.

They can be friends, or a good dinner, or a glass of wine at the end of the day. They can be the touch of your lover, or of a small child’s hand, or laughter, or the beauty of a favorite painting hanging on your wall.

Or, it can be nature. I have been blessed most of my adult life to live near, and sometimes deep in, rural areas where nature fills your vision everywhere you look.  For the past four years or so, I have lived in Southern Vermont. My house, a simple post and beam house built around 1800, is across the road from a slate quarry, abandoned, depending on who tells you, in the fifties or sixties. Today, the huge mountains of slate have flowers growing in the roads, and white birch trees rising from the nooks and crannies of the stone.

I went walking this afternoon, just before dusk. Normally when I walk, my eyes go naturally to the horizons, to the broad sweep of sky and mountains that bring to mind the Palmist’s declaration “I lift my eyes to the mountains, from whence cometh my help.”

But today, my eyes fell to the roadside. And the small things. The tiny beautiful flowers and berries that we so often miss as we stride from place to place, so intent on the destination that we miss the journey.

Only, when you are broken, it is hard to imagine a destination. All you can imagine is the moment. The small things. And so, you do what you can do. You find your joy in those small things.

Some people have that knack of seeing the small things naturally. The woman I love is like that. She constantly draws my attention to small gems of nature I would miss when we walk. Beautiful in themselves, with no need of space or imagination to make them beautiful.

She has taught me, just as my counselor has taught me, that while horizons have value, so too do the small things in life, and there are many more of those than horizons and they are always available, these small things of beauty. Always around us, God’s gifts to us, reminders, everywhere we look, IF we look, of his love for us. Tiny signs of an abundant life.

So today, I saw the small things. I came from my walk refreshed. The burdens that sometimes threaten to overcome me, safely at bay, buried in my gratitude for the small beauties of life. God’s gift.

Tom