When I’m feeling uninspired, disconnected, or defeated. When I’m rushing or pushing. When I’m adrift and need to find my footing, I look for signs of life. And every time I do, I’m reminded that life speaks to me, everywhere and always.

Life speaks to me in colors.

Girls in crimson dresses gather around a fountain. Strands of gold dangle from their necks and glitter in the afternoon sun. They remind me of roses sprouting through the sidewalk cracks. They laugh as a photographer takes their picture.

Birds flit through the trees, flashing their wings at the world below. A black one stays perched on its branch and watches as I pass. It tilts its head a little as if to get a better view, and when I get too near, it flies ahead to find a new lookout.

Watercolor clouds, grey with rain, sail above the golden desert. Blue sky peeks through the empty spaces between them.

Life speaks to me in touch.

My daughter rests her warm hand in mine as we walk from the car to school. We hop over busy ants, and her curls bounce against my arm.

The soft wind tickles my bare ankles. I pull my coat closer around me to keep warm.

My lungs expand, and my heart taps gently from the inside.

Life speaks to me in rhythm.

A mother pushes her children in a stroller. They talk about all they can see, and the wheels carry on a conversation with the earth. “I’m here, and here, and here” they seem to say.

The patter of last night’s rain fills the morning air as stray drops escape from the trees.

A train whistles in the distance and echoes back. A flag flaps in the wind. A clock chimes the hour. And in the room above my office, a flute begins to play.

Life speaks to me in memories and mementos.

Painted cats and salt crystals watch over us from the kitchen window, and crayon masterpieces tell me of a time that will be gone too soon.

Images flash through my mind as life says, “You were here. And here. And here.”

White steps, red brick building. 

Orchestra pit. 

Yellow gingham shirt.  

Prisms in the bathroom window. 

Deep green school bus seats. 

“And there’s so much more.”

If I ever have any doubts about who I am or why I’m here, I let life flow through me and remember:

Life chooses to express itself through me, to expand through me, to see itself through my eyes, to be here experiencing me for just a moment. @ralph_leslie (Click to Tweet!)

Right now, I am here, and there’s so much here to see.

Leslie Ralph is a psychologist, writer, and artist who hopes to leave the world a little brighter than she found it.  Her people are creative, sensitive spirits who crave love and peace, inside and out. Leslie is the author of There, I Might Find Peace: Poetry and Prose, Mantras and Meditations for Peace, Love, and Strength. Download her free gift, a ritual for receiving, a daily ritual for bringing more love and light, clarity and confidence, meaning and connection to your life. You can follow Leslie on Facebook or Instagram.

Image courtesy of Allef Vinicius.