We’ve all had those experiences of earnestly searching for something we’ve lost, only to find it right in front of us.
Not seeing for looking.
The other day my second lesson from clearing the thistles felt like this.
In endeavouring to gather all the flowering stems along a track by the lake, I walked with my brush hook, collecting as I went.
Job done and in good time.
Except that when I walked back along that stretch, I found some more.
OK, so they might have been hidden by foliage.
A while later, I again walked that section of track and found more.
This time they were lower to the ground. Clearly, my line of sight had been far more narrow than I realised.
Except it wasn’t.
Because yet another pass drew plants that were higher up and further into the bank to my attention.
This time I needed to stretch much further and trust stepping onto ground and undergrowth of indeterminant depth, including encountering the drainage ditch at one point.
Interestingly, reaching further than I had planned opened my eyes to yet more thistles, previously out of my psychological safety zone.
In the end, I just had to laugh.
How often do we operate with a narrower line of sight than we realise?
More learning from the valley, this time with a damp foot.