Why does the most meaningful beauty always seem to appear effortlessly? We learn all our lives that beauty is something to strive toward, to work at harder and harder with relentless energy and determination... and while there may be some element of truth to this, I find myself consistently floored each time I open my eyes to this greater truth: The most heart-melting, soul-shattering works of art are already painted into the simple scenes passing before our very eyes, like carousel horses. It is the least I can do to capture a few of these eternal glimpses of our passing lives with my humble pen. From these scenes, I derive my most divine inspiration, momentarily extracting the veil that lies over the surface of all Created Beauty.
I am reminded of a scene from Thornton Wilder's Our Town:
EMILY: Does anyone ever realize life while they live it - every, every minute?
STAGE MANAGER: No. The saints and poets, maybe. They do some.
Beloved friends, please don't close your eyes. Your life is so tender and exquisite.
Love,
Hannah