We were sitting with our eyes closed, taking turns praying aloud, when she said it. She thanked God for the beauty that she had seen that night. Beauty in downtown Chicago. Beauty in the gathered multitudes at the Jazz Fest. Beauty in the jazz pianists’ fingers dancing up and down the keys. Beauty in the rythm. Beauty in the music.
I didn’t see that beauty! I thought as she continued to pray. I missed the beauty that she had seen so plainly right in front of us, and I knew why. I missed it because my attention wasn’t out. It was in. My focus had been on what I thought. How I felt. What I wanted like to do. Me.
And I had missed the beautiful that night.