He's Looking At The Stars

The other day I was doing some work on my computer. My niece Emma came in to check on my turtle, who's in a big tank next to my desk. Emma climbed up on the window seat behind the tank and began to play.

She'd brought with her some Legos, and I gave her a plastic polar bear I keep on my desk. At one point she laid all the Legos down and put the polar bear in front of them. She told me the Legos were sleeping.

​I asked her if the polar bear was guarding them while they slept.

She thought about this for a moment and then said,

"No. He's looking at the stars."

I stopped what I was doing and thought about what she said. Her response, so short and so perfect, said so much about how she views life. It made me realize that our natural response to what the polar bear was doing was a reflection of how we see life.

Where she sees a chance to see the stars, I see things that need to be protected.

She sees magic. I see vulnerability.

She sees the whole Universe. I see imagined threats and dangers.

I'd like to change this. I'd like to see magic instead of things to be afraid of.

Tonight, I will look at the stars.

I will look up and smile and take a deep breath. I will breathe and enjoy this little corner of the Universe I call home. I will breathe in the love and breathe out the fear. I will breathe in the knowing that all is well. And I will breathe out the worry that's never helped me anyways.
​