This week, I painted windows from the inside looking out. Here in North Idaho, winters are grey, bleak, cold, and can be somewhat depressing, so looking out my window can just add to the dreariness. But I think there is something to be said about looking out the window…literally and figuratively.

When I look outside a window, it’s like a whole other world than the one I’m in, in my home. The habit of opening the blinds in the morning welcomes the natural light in. Windows allow you to see the world outside.

As human beings, we are naturally selfish. We automatically have a pull to selfishness. But when we look up and out into the world around us, we come to understand that the world doesn’t revolve around us. There are other people in this world who need connection, are struggling or celebrating, or are just living life, however monotonous it is. We are so small in this big, big world. There are so many things happening that not opening our eyes to what is around us will stunt us.

When I’m out walking, I usually see other neighbors out walking. Usually, I have my AirPods in while listening to a podcast. But because my eyes are up and not looking at my phone, I get to wave, smile, and say the occasional hi to passersby. In a world that tends to be on their phones whenever they can be, because that’s now their comfort zone, it’s refreshing to hear a “hi” or “the weather is so nice today.”

We recently spent a weekend with friends, and one of them said she is very strict about not using her phone when she walks into or out of stores or when she gets out of her car to walk somewhere. She said she makes a point of not being on her phone so she can make eye contact with others. I thought this was a great habit. I mentioned that I actively think about this when I am walking into a store or around. I don’t want to be so sucked into whatever is going on digitally that I miss the present moment where I’m at physically.

Looking out my window, I get to see a world that I’m a part of, yet it’s so easy to ignore and find something else to entertain me.

Usually when I look out my front big window, I see cars passing by, my cat meowing, begging to be let in, birds on our bird feeder, snow or rain falling, neighbors stopping to say hi to Susan or Ember, and so many other things. But I wouldn’t be engaged with those things unless my blinds were open.

I don’t want to miss out on present moments, inside or outside, because my blinds are closed. I want to be open to the opportunities that God has for me to live in my true identity. I can’t do that when I refuse to look outside of myself or my home.