When I first read Thomas Berry's beautiful words about the universe being a communion of subjects rather than a collection of objects, it felt like a soft light turning on in a dark room. It is so easy to walk through life seeing the world as a series of things to be used, managed, or ignored. We see trees as lumber, rain as an inconvenience to our commute, and even people as mere obstacles in our way. But this quote invites us to shift our gaze, asking us to recognize that everything around us possesses its own depth, its own story, and its own inherent worth.

In our busy, modern lives, we often fall into the habit of looking at the world through a lens of utility. We check our watches, we navigate our GPS, and we focus on the tasks at hand, treating the environment as nothing more than a backdrop to our own personal dramas. It turns the world into a cold, silent museum of items. But when we begin to see the world as a communion, the landscape changes. The wind isn't just moving air; it is a living presence. The old oak tree in the park isn't just scenery; it is a silent witness to the passing years, breathing alongside us.

I remember a particularly heavy afternoon a few weeks ago when I was feeling quite lonely and overwhelmed. I was sitting on a park bench, feeling like I was just a tiny, isolated speck in a vast, indifferent world. I looked down and saw a small beetle struggling to climb over a twig. In that moment, I stopped seeing the twig as debris and the beetle as a mere insect. I saw a tiny life, full of struggle and purpose, interacting with its world. Suddenly, I didn't feel so alone. I felt like I was part of a massive, interconnected conversation where every living thing has a voice and a role to play.

This way of seeing requires a bit of practice and a lot of heart. It means slowing down enough to acknowledge the life in the things we encounter. It means moving from a mindset of 'what can this do for me' to 'how am I connected to this.' When we recognize the subjectivity in all things, we develop a profound sense of belonging and responsibility toward the earth and each other.

Today, I want to encourage you to take a small moment to look at something around you—perhaps a houseplant, a pet, or even the clouds drifting by—and try to see it not as an object, but as a fellow traveler in this great, shared existence. Notice the life within it, and see how your own story weaves into theirs.