The deep rumble of thunder began about 5:00 this morning. One of life's most delicious sounds if you are tucked in a warm bed and have a few more hours to sleep. Luckily, I did.

I woke well past my alarm, stretched, threw some clothes on and headed downstairs to pour myself a cup of coffee. The smell of the freshly brewed pot my husband had kindly made wafted up the stairs and into our room. The coffee was hot and ready.

I sat down to read and glanced out the raindrop-spattered window to enjoy the blooming garden outside.

I immediately noticed a large weed sprouting up right in my eyesight; framed in my window, marring my perfect view to my garden.

"How rude," I thought.

"How rude of that weed to grow so tall, and also, why haven't I have trimmed it back yet?"

"My enjoyment of the garden is ruined," I thought to myself.

And then I smiled.

A little voice whispered in my head, "Look past the weed, Alice,"

"Look past the weed, honey. There is your beautiful view. Your garden knows nothing of that bothersome weed you are fretting about. All your garden knows is how to be gorgeous."

What if looking past the weed or weeds is my mantra for the day? For the week? For life?

There is so much beauty in the world and so many weeds.

What if - rather than waiting for the view, the moment, the space, the house, the job, the family - to be perfect before we can enjoy it, we practice looking past the weed to witness the gardens of our lives in full bloom?

Might this be a new spiritual practice in our world of instagram filters, flawless home renovations that take 30 minutes or less on TV, and the airbrushed bodies, faces, and lives that bombard us daily?

What if, in our very real lives, full of weeds and beauty, we whisper to ourselves over and again,

Look past the weed, honey.

Just look past the weed.

The beauty is always there.