Looking by Listening

The sun in the sky!

Some years back at a silent auction for an organization I supported, I bid on and won a series of watercolor painting lessons.  And after those lessons, when the town's recreation department offered classes, I signed up.  I loved seeing how the water on the paper pulled the paint in surprising directions, how colors could be mixed, how the seemingly clear plain blue of a sky might also include yellow or red.  I dabbled a bit but then the paints and brushes got packed away and almost forgotten.  But the other day, as I was sorting out some things, I found them.  One of the five-year-old "grands" and I decided to paint.  It was a new thing for her and she was intent on learning.  We practiced painting plain water on the paper and dropping in paint, making pink out of red, making green out of blue and yellow.  We painted together on the same paper, working on a picture of the sky.  I had the yellow paint and asked her where to paint the sun.  She said, quite nonchalantly, "Listen to the paper."  And she went on painting her section.  

"Listen to the paper."  As in, perhaps, if you pay close attention, it will tell you what to do.  Don't just look:  listen.  

And I've been wondering if there might be more things to listen to, like the land, the trees, the old house we are about to renovate.  Is there a hidden wisdom in things, even inanimate things, that is waiting to be heard?  Is there some holy guidance all around us, waiting to show us what to do?  

In his poem Ash Wednesday, the poet T. S. Eliot wrote these words:  
       Where shall the word be found, where will the word 
       Resound?  Not here, there is not enough silence....

We live in a noisy world, with all kinds of distractions.  It takes silence to find the Word, to hear the Word.  It takes silence to listen to the paper.  And sometimes, it takes a five-year-old to open the ears of your eyes!