A month gone by and with it, my initial appreciation of this place attempting to flea as well. My saving grace, a solitude to hear the call to prayer once again and an evening free to enjoy a pomegranate. This after a day away from the city, spent laughing in fellowship with new friends.
In English we may say, "stop and smell the roses", and I in fact literally did just that a mere three days ago. Life is absolutely about trade-offs; accepting the good and the bad of each new season. Perspectives change and I finally admit not everything is a fairy land, but I refocus on all that says that oh, it actually is.
This afternoon a woman brough tears to my eyes. According to her, my hair is beautiful, my toenail color is beautiful, and I, in fact, am beautiful. As the Persians so graciously reply, "Your eyes are beautiful." If anyone should know beauty it would be this woman, but she actually mentioned on various occassions that she herself was not beautiful. Humbled and honored to chat with her for hours, she filled my heart with joy and reminded me to cherish the moment, all the while smiling, opening up to me, and slipping in more flattery.
Before tonight I had not heard the call to prayer in days. No, it never stopped. It happens multiple times a day whether I am here or not. I simply was not hearing it because I stopped listening. I can likewise so easily overlook beauty because I forget to see it as such. I can start to make cultural assumptions based on incomplete observations. I can let petty overtake precious.
I'm in a land full of pomegranates and persimmons. Sweet and inexpensive, these fruits are to my avail each and every day. I have twenty minutes available to peel and taste a pomegranate. I've learned that looking at a persimmon and thinking it's a tomato entirely does it an injustice. I'm starting to cherish that which became ordinary as precious once again.
