The beauty you see in nature is a reflection of the beauty in yourself, though you might not always recognize it.
Something landed in my inbox a few weeks ago week that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. A mindfulness coach asked a simple question: when we acknowledge beauty around us, can we acknowledge that that beauty is also inside us? I read several times because I could feel the internal split of my inner critic vs my higher, loving Self.
Because I think most of us are pretty good at recognizing beauty outside ourselves. A gorgeous flower, the golden light at sunrise, or a majestic animal in front of us like a humpback whale, a flamingo, or a sea turtle gliding by. We notice the beauty and awe instantly and we can feel it.
What we're much slower to do is turn that same gaze inward.
I paint nature because it genuinely moves me. There's something in a wildlife scene that opens a space in my chest. Room to breathe. Room to just be. And I've always believed that when a piece lands on someone's wall, it keeps doing that work quietly, every day, every time they walk past.
But the idea that the beauty we're drawn to is a reflection of something already in us, might be harder for some of us to accept if we're the kind that's always expecting more of ourselves.
Maybe the calm you feel looking at still water is the calm you're capable of.
Maybe the aliveness you see in a flamingo flamboyance or at sunrise is the aliveness that's yours too.
I'm sitting with that this week. Paying attention to what brings up that sense of joy and aliveness.
Strawberry picking one afternoon. A morning at the beach where I came back energized, inspired, and excited to work in the afternoon.
I turned the strawberries into jam that night, leaving the whole kitchen smelling sweet.
Then a run through the forest, rain coming down warm and heavy. My first outdoor run in fifteen years.
That is presence. Small moments that, together, make up a life of joy, love, and wholeness.
Wherever your own in-between moments are this week, I hope you notice them.
With love, Katherine
