The lens of appreciation.

The human mind is like a telescope, it bypasses the beauty of life within its immediate view, to go in search of a beauty that is alien to its eyes. The lens of human appreciation is farsighted, making it difficult to appreciate the beauty of life that’s closest to us. We’ve failed to appreciate the beauty of life when it’s closest to us because its closeness makes it easier for us to recognize its flaws. Familiarity is the magnifier of flaws. It’s human nature to magnify the flaws of those who are closest to us, making their flaws appear to be more meaningful than their beauty. This faultfinding propensity of ours toward those who are closest to us has cheated us from appreciating the fullness of their presence. Our appreciation for our loved ones tends to be at its highest when their lives are no longer within of our sensory reach when their bodies are outside the reach of our embracing touch when we eulogize them with praises that are unable to breach the impenetrable gap that lies between the mouth of the living and the ears of the dead. Far too often in life, eulogy has been used as a last-ditch effort to exhume the treasurable worth of a loved one that we had buried under our neglect.

If the grave could break its silence, it would tell us that life looks more beautiful through the lens of hindsight than it did through the lens of foresight. It would ask us, why are we always in such a rush to meet the remote realities of the future when the present moment is the only moment that imbues us with the breath of life? If the grave could break its silence, It would tell us to set aside our telescopic lens so that we could become more nearsighted with our appreciation for the beautiful people and experiences that are within our sensory reach. If the grave could break its silence, it would ask us why are we searching far and wide for a celestial paradise, beautifying it with our imagination, while alienating from our appreciation the terrestrial paradise, which we called home? If the grave could break its silence, it would tell us that of all the things that it now craves for, in life, it craves the touch of those whom it had neglected, the most. But why do we have to wait until the grave becomes the home of someone treasurable for us to recognize his or her true worth? We, humans, are so used to unearthing treasures that we don’t know how to measure the true worth of a treasure that life has placed within our grasp.


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