Somewhere along the way many of us just forgot.  We got so caught up in that notion of seeing and/or owning something ‘more exotic’  that we forgot to look around and be amazed in the “right here” and “right now”.  And along the way, we lost some part of our capacity to be filled with wonder.

What is it about the notion of having to get there on an airplane that makes a blue flower growing in a far away place bluer than the one growing in the alley?

The arrival of four dollar gas may reshuffle the deck for some of us in that regard, but this notion of wanting what we don’t have, of valuing the distantly ‘exotic’ more than the truly exotic right at our feet . . . well, it is a baffling phenomenon, don’t you think?   And don’t get me wrong, I certainly don’t get to look down my nose at anyone in this regard.  I am easily as susceptible to  ‘grass is always greener” behavior as the next person.

I know of a guy who has spent nearly seventy-five-thousand dollars over the past six months following National Geographic photographers into ‘exotic’ locales, there to make ‘exotic’ photographs of ‘exotic’ things that ‘The Geographic” has orchestrated and planned out for him and other well-monied attendees, well in advance.  (“Attention campers . . . and on Tuesday we will head up the Croco-pee-pee river to photograph the very last of the elusive, Blunt-nosed, Ring-tailed Boondoggles.”  You get the picture. )  This fellow quite obviously subscribes to the hope/belief that the ‘exotic’ is for sale to the highest bidders, and that access to it can be bought if one has enough money.  Obviously he has the funding.  But does he have eyes that can see magic? Would he recognize it growing beneath his feet . . . in his own back yard?  If not, one wonders if his pictures could possibly capture or convey it.

On the other hand, I know of a woman who saves dimes and quarters in a jar, who often buys seeds rather than plants that someone else started from seed, because they are cheaper.  Slowly she has been transforming her little plot of land into a masterpiece that fits her personality, that is an expression of who she is.  And as she does this, she generously invites people into her little world and feeds them, and excitedly shows them what is blooming and growing, and offers starts of plants and accepts starts from others.  When she walks through her little garden area, her eyes dance and her hands are animated as she points out ‘this’s and that’s’ that smell so sweet or look so amazing in the backlight, or that came originally from one of her friend’s gardens.

I am convinced that this woman knows far, far more about what is and is not ‘exotic’ than many a trust-funded, National Geographic safari buying, shutterbug who thinks that ‘exotic’ means ‘expensive’ and ‘somewhere else’ ever will. 

She’s not trying to buy it.  She’s simply living it.  Exotically.

Go ahead.  Look around.  Any ‘True Blue Exotica’ growing near your back door?