The Eye of Sauron

An odd title for a post, to be sure, but as I was staring out my office window this morning after my first cup of coffee, I started thinking about my upcoming surgery on Monday and about how I take things and people for granted sometimes. So what does that have to do with Tolkien's chief antagonist in his book The Lord of the Rings? Well, I'll tell you.

At the end of the third book in Tolkien's trilogy, the evil eye of Sauron is scanning all around, looking for the good guys who are seeking to destroy the Ring of Power, his ring, the one he has been searching to find for years and years to reclaim. It is the thing he wants most in life, the thing that will return him to ultimate power.

Sauron is so intent on looking for the ring where he thinks it will be found that he misses what's right in front of him, two bedraggled hobbits, sneaking under his piercing gaze to destroy his precious ring.

I don't normally compare myself to an evil antagonist in a fantasy novel, but in this case I'll make an exception. Sometimes, I'm scanning all around, seeking for that which I desire most: to prevent, to find, to know, whatever, ...and it's either right in front of me and I was too blind to notice or I've underestimated somebody, or I've simply taken them for granted and they are right there in front of me. I've just been too busy or too tired to notice it/them.

This morning, my husband, stumbling around in his morning fog getting dressed for work, sat down hard on my feet and ankles as I was lying in bed, just waking up. I cried out in pain and annoyance. Couldn't he plainly see my feet sticking outside the covers, not to mention the shape of my body curved around to his side of the bed? Was he that oblivious to anyone but himself? All these thoughts occurred to me in a flash before he grunted and apologized, but it was one of those apologies that said, "It's your fault, not mine really." He immediately made an excuse, "I thought it'd be safe here on my side of the bed."

"Didn't you SEE my FEET?" I cried in agony. (Well, less agony, more annoyance). He sighed and shrugged...and promptly left the room. No goodbyes...he just left for work.

The point is...when we're wrapped up in our own little problems, sometimes we fail to see those of the people around us and their needs.

On the drive in to work today as I sat nursing my hot coffee, waiting for the light to change, I tried to be as observant as I could, letting details that usually escape me, stand out in great detail. Things I usually took for granted captured my attention, and held it sharply, even for a few moments before they sailed by on the journey to the office.

I want to see the people around me and notice them. I want to remember what the sky looks like this afternoon, or how good the coffee smells when it's brewing. I want to remember the smile on my husbands face when I hold his hand and tell him I love him, even if he did crush my feet and run off with a half-hearted apology, without saying goodbye, because I know, I'm just as guilty of ignoring his needs and because I don't want to forget what it's like to really live.