Pink hydrangeas, tilted photo.

Here’s something that’s been coming into focus for me lately** as I try to organize my backlog of photographs:  I have a definite tilt.

This shows up in photographs of me, as well, where since childhood, I almost always lean my head a little bit toward my right shoulder.  Unless I am consciously trying not to do so (and then I sometimes look a little stiff and uncomfortable).

It’s not a big problem or anything, to have a tilt, especially not with the ability to crop and straighten a shot after the fact.  But becoming aware of it will help me to consistently take better photos, and ones that don’t need any correction after the fact.

And all of those slightly diagonal photos are a gentle nudge to me to consider my tilt in life, too.  It is so easy to let it fade into the background.  In fact, I’d venture that the ego’s “normal” assumption for everyday reality is that it’s got this really spot-on view of things.  No tilt here, surely.  Mine is always the “right” way to look at the situation.

It’s usually not a big problem or anything.*  We all view the world tilted at our particular angle, I guess.  But becoming aware of my own leaning helps me in so many areas of life — mainly in my ability to listen and truly hear what is being said, to read and understand and sink into another’s world, and to be able relate to other human beings on all kinds of levels.

Viewed that way, tilt awareness is all about connection.  Y’all know I am all about connection.  I sometimes have an easier time of it with the plants and animals and sky than with the human beings I meet in everyday life — and there’s another excellent example of my tilt.

So… what’s your tilt?  Do you recognize that you have one?  Does it ever affect your work, your art, the style of your home or garden?  Does it color your comprehension of what is happening in relationships?  What are some other areas of life where it would be good to be aware of our tilt?

I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Hope your week got off to a beautiful start!

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*   Okay.  Yes, sometimes Ego is a big problem.  Huge.  The adverb is crucial in that sentence.

** Yep, I’m three weeks behind on the Focus posts again.  Rather than try and catch up in a focus overload, I’m just going to jump right in and maybe throw in the backlogged posts later, when there’s a lull.  At the end of the year, when winter has limited the garden-post options, sounds like a great time to find any wayward Focus weeks and pull them back into the fold.

“A morning glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.”

~Walt Whitman

Grandpa Ott Morning Glory.

You may have guessed by now that I’m a huge Whitman fan.  His words do get featured pretty regularly in the “Quote of the Week” that appears in the sidebar.

But, as much as I adore morning glories (and especially my heirloom Grandpa Ott Morning Glories, which may well have been in existence during Whitman’s lifetime), I’ll have to disagree with the poet on this one.

Of course, it depends on the book, but…

Walt, come on, couldn’t we just have both?

Morning glories clinging to the porch railing.

Sure we could.

In fact, I did it this morning, sitting on the porch steps, alternately engrossed in my beautiful book, and then letting that book slide off into my lap as I got to daydreaming, or watching the bees in the mint patch, or wondering if the next ‘Cherokee Purple’ tomato plans to ripen up anytime soon, or holding my breath and sitting ever so still as the male ruby-throated hummingbird came within eight inches of my face, not certain if I was a huge flower or not — but not willing to pass up a source of nectar this promising without checking it out first.

(Hint:  When you plan to be still in the garden, wear an orange or pink or scarlet shirt.  Sitting in a sunbeam doesn’t hurt your chances for a hummingbird encounter, either.  Sometimes, if you are very fortunate, a butterfly will land on your shoulder, too.)

I guess I’m just that kind of person.  The kind who wants to have her cake and eat it, too.  Shortly after F. and I first met, he accused me of being greedy — but not for money.  The very idea made me laugh — and then laugh some more when I realized how true it was.  I wasn’t used to thinking of the term “greed” apart from the Wall-Street-style connotation, and at first glance it didn’t seem to fit my lifestyle of simple pleasures enjoyed to their fullest.

It is now one of our little jokes, because it’s so true.  Yes, I am greedy for all the joy this world has to offer, whether it’s the sun-drenched or the rain-soaked kind — or any of the million possibilities between them… and the transcendent joy of the shimmering rainbow when they meet.  I am greedy for friendship, for beauty, for laughter, for wonder, for love, for inspiration, for sweetness and spice, for peace, and for connection — with other beings, with Nature, with the Divine.

I’ll take the magic of books, please – and a stained-glass morning glory with a honeybee feasting in its glowing throat.  If it’s not too much to ask.

Wishing you a weekend filled with whatever satisfies you most.

Namasté, y’all.

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