When I first moved into my condo (now, just two weeks shy of six years), I had recently broken things off with my boyfriend, with whom I lived, and was eager to find a place in the neighborhood where I could make a home for myself.

I remembered liking the lay-out and flow of my current space right away. I had never had as large a master bedroom. I couldn’t deny the place featured so many things I was looking for and presented so many other wonderful things I never considered wanting before.

I absolutely loved the black iron pot rack that hung from the nine foot ceiling over the edge of the kitchen island. When I moved forward on the purchase, I made sure to have it stipulated in the closing docs that the pot rack had to stay.

Except for my desk, bed and dining set, for weeks — practically months  — I had no other furniture. I remember, as daylight hours got longer through May and June, watching playoff hockey games from the floor of my living room. I had no couch to rest on, no table or shelf where my TV could sit.

Slowly, I acquired things that made me feel HOME. Rugs and a new bedspread, a shower curtain, towels, and kitchen appliances. I found places for my books and papers that I wasn’t yet ready to let go. I organized my closets and, not uncommon after the process of moving, I located jewelry I forgot I had.

Over these past few weeks, like most everyone, my home has not just been my retreat. My second floor flat has become my WORLD.

There’s an old saying, “Familiarity breeds contempt.”  The adage is supposed to refer to how, over the passage of time, it becomes easier to see the faults or flaws of something.

Just when I was starting to feel too familiar with my surroundings, I tripped over a poem by David Whyte, “Everything is Waiting for You.” It read like an ode to mindfulness. It taught me something important about LOVE.

“Your great mistake is to act the drama as if you were alone…To feel abandoned is to deny the intimacy of your surroundings…”

In taking in these words, of course, I am struck by how so many people can relate to this. It’s odd that the whole world is experiencing quarantine, isolation, TOGETHER.

But, in reading “Everything’s Waiting For You,” I am reminded of the commitment I made to be mindful, to practice seeing the uniqueness and beauty of all things.

This involves not taking anything for granted, even an old Calphalon® skillet I still use for making grilled cheese sandwiches.

I don’t want to just assume the presence of something out of habit and stop seeing it.

It seems to me that, for LOVE to exist, acceptance must come first. No judgment, just a grateful awareness of that thing being in your life.

Then comes discipline. We can all take opportunities to SEE or HEAR or FEEL the special qualities someone or something possesses. There is joy in our everyday lives — even now, even amid anxiety and contraction.

And, I fell in love with my pot rack again.

I felt renewed. Rather than breeding contempt, I was happy about the familiarity of my surroundings. I felt somehow comforted in knowing that other people could also experience similar small pleasures.

There is so much to notice — even when nothing is new. In any moment, by being mindful, there are so many instances when we can take in something that touches us.

Whyte writes, ”Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the conversation…All the birds and creatures of the world are unutterably themselves. Everything is waiting for you.”

Whether you find unexpected delight in spying the robin resting by your window sill or give a few extra moments to contemplate the trusted service provided by your bedside reading lamp before you switch it off for the night…

Choosing where to place you attention is no small thing.