Windows seem to be taken for granted.
They are invisible to us.
Nobody is ever grateful for a window. We only notice what’s wrong with them, and even then it isn’t about the window itself.
When we can’t see through them we notice the dirt.
When it’s broken we notice the damage.
When there’s a draught we notice the gap.
When they’ve been cleaned or repaired we only notice that we can see the object behind the window better than we could before.
If windows weren’t there we could feel exposed, cold, insecure
They are invisible to us.
And it got me thinking that life can be like that. We spend our whole lives not seeing life for what it is; we busy ourselves, we entertain ourselves, we distract ourselves. And life is there in the background being taken for granted.
We don’t notice its beauty. We don’t notice its stillness. We don’t notice the silence.
These are all there in the background, and without them we don’t have the contrast to compare our lives to.
It is invisible to us.