When is there more than meets the eye? There's a scene in "The Devil Wears Prada" where Meryl Streep's character ruthlessly deconstructs the myriad forces that combined to produce a blue jumper. Before this, Anne Hathaway's character believed the superficial fashion world was beneath her. She saw no value there. But through her boss's brutal tear down - she senses a deeper sophistication and power in this industry. There is more going on here than had met her eye. Where she saw just a jumper, Meryl Streep's character saw a whole industry. A whole art form. We see with our heart I have a similar disconnect when I hear my sisters discuss clothes and fashion. Their rapture in discerning the subtlest nuance in tone, texture and cut is lost on me. Even when they spell it out to me so that I see it - I don't really see it. I don't see the intricate subtleties behind it. I don't see what they see. It's the same for them when I savour some exquisite skill in sport. They don't really see it. And this is because we don't see with our eyes so much as with our heart. We only see what we value. We only see what we love. The great in the small Joy lies in the subtle nuance that the lover discerns, but the loveless does not. To a great chef, the immaculate precision of a single spice is the difference between ecstasy and ho-hum. And that same chef would take one look at me in the kitchen and know that I can't cook. Small, subtle tells would give it away. The way I held the knife. The way I stood in that kitchen. The vapid look in my eyes. They wouldn't have to taste my cooking. They could smell my ignorance. The master sees what's important and what's not. They see the importance of the small. And they see that unless we master the small, we can never taste - or even recognise - the great. To continue the movie theme, it's like in The Deer Hunter where Robert De Niro's character is infuriated that his friend wants to hunt but doesn't respect hunting. He's maddened by their failure to see the vital importance of the small. The basics. (Warning if you watch the clip: there's swearing and non-PC references.) A rising tide of appreciation The fashionista, the master chef, the expert hunter - the connoisseur - they scoff at our disrespect of the small because they see we don't even know what we are missing. We can't even imagine the beauty that they can see. Is this why spiritual masters tell us to value the small moments of our lives? Are they inviting us to be connoisseurs of life? The dishes. The washing. The cleaning. Yes, the cooking. Going from here to there. Taking off my shoes. The apparently mundane. The breath. Those tasks I rush and push away. Why would I value these small moments? The connoisseur values the small because they see that it serves the whole. That blue jumper was an important, if ugly, servant of the fashion industry. Hunting boots serve hunting. To respect hunting, we must respect the boots. Who do the dishes serve? The washing, the shoes,...? They serve us. They serve the people that we love. Could it be that through treating the small moments of our lives with more respect, we discover a deeper honour of, and gratitude for, those we love most?