There are times when we are confronted with our own limitations. Several weeks after I sprained my ankle, I went to the doctor because I’d noticed the skin there was noticeably more pink than around my healthy ankle. The problem was, I didn’t know if the skin had always been rosier, or if I was just now noticing it. The doctor poked and prodded, told me this was what I should expect, and sent me home with additional exercises to speed my recovery.
As a novelist, I work hard to see. Small changes in the light, dust in the air, a new branch growing out of an old tree stump—these things can add wonderful depth to my descriptive passages. It’s all the more embarrassing to admit that I hadn’t noticed anything about my ankle until weeks after the injury.
Rather than flog myself for this lapse, I’m going to use it as a teaching moment. There is always more to see, always more to hear, always more to experience. Taking time to be mindful is a simple and effective way of improving my writing.