Early on as children we’re taught the concept of keeping our hands to ourselves. I learnt it. I understood the idea of personal space. However, I developed a habit that, if it did not come at anyone’s expense, I expand my own bubble. During summer drives, my hand finds its way outside to ride on the wind. When I walk, I walk with my hands outstretched. My fingertips linger on the fences, bushes and trees it finds. Not always, of course. Sometimes they’re burdened with loads and cannot explore their surroundings.
Many times these escapades result in the unconscious gathering of treasures. Other times the results are only bruises, cuts or scrapes. The treasures often come in the form of flowers, leaves or the sound of my fingers making music as they scrape along aluminum railings. These I smell, press and memorize.
The hurt is sometimes a treasure in subtle form as well. From these I learn. Other times there is no redemption in the hurt. Of these I let go.
Of course, this all goes beyond the physical state of things. What I want to learn is to be just as open in mind and character. Too often I feel closed up and defensive, too burdened with my own loads to accept the treasures I could be gleaning. There is so much to be gained from living, and so little to store up in hoarding. So I’ve been coming out from my shell a little bit just to see what others are saying, doing thinking. I have been observing, and soaking up and allowing my mind to stretch its fingertips and explore its surroundings.
So far I’ve gotten criticism, negativity and hurt. These I learn form and let go.
But so far I have collected many many treasures. These I savor, memorize and share.