I stood on tiptoes, barely able to reach the top shelf of the linen closet in our bathroom. I was looking for a few special bars of soap I kept hidden to use in the outdoor shower all summer long. As soon as my fingers found the thick square block, I lowered it to my nose, making sure it was the scent I wanted – goatmilk and basil, an olfactory delight of sweetness and spice.

The package, covered in sturdy floral wrap, yielded the tape that held it together, making the paper reusable. So, I carefully folded it to place in my gift drawer. It would work perfectly as a scented covering for a future treasure for a friend.

It’s a moment of beauty, I thought to myself, as I took one last whiff of the deliciously scented paper.

Beauty is like a siren song that lures us back to the present moment. It connects us to unseen realms, to a deep sense of aliveness, to the kind of gratitude that brings tears to our eyes. When you become a disciple of beauty, a rectangular piece of sweet-smelling paper becomes a portal to the soul.

My husband, Michael, is constantly amazed by the way I spot beauty everywhere – a pale crescent moon in the middle of the day, the sound of a hummingbird’s wings outside the kitchen window, or the silhouette of a majestic hawk perched atop a tree in the distant field. How do you see these things? he always wants to know. To which I always reply, ‘I am well trained.’

For more than a year, I kept a daily journal that tracked the moments of beauty I was blessed to encounter throughout the day. The trembling of my cat Wednesday as she lay dreaming by my side while I write. The way a single nasturtium in a vase on the kitchen sill looks like it’s been kissed by a sunset. The darting eyes of a squirrel feasting on birdseed in a window feeder, stationed like a king on a throne. In our wisdom years, these moments aren’t just pleasant little joys meant to enchant us; they are spiritual medicine. They pull us away from the busy mind and its relentless chatter. They land us back in the body where our senses can reclaim their power to switch on the lights. They restore our sanity and sensibility, leaving us to remember what really matters.

Had I known that a daily practice of tracking beauty for a year would have such profound spiritual effects on my life, I would have done it long ago. So today, I let beauty lead. It guides me back, again and again, to the only place I want to be in my wisdom years – right here.

Love,

Cheryl

P.S. – Last week’s AI class notes and Zoom recording are now up on the website. You can find them, here.