Just Us Little Blinks of God

We swim into this world through the placenta of our mothers’ wombs gasping for breath into the unfamiliar.  And when we die, at least from the perspective of someone who has witnessed many deaths, it seems that many of us are swimming back through the placenta of our understanding of this life gasping for breath into the next reality.

And in between there is all this life.

All this experience.

All this witnessing of everyday miracles that tumble around our lives like shiny polished minerals as we explore this rock we live upon hurtling through space as far as the eye cannot see.

Just think about how each of us are but blinks of God experiencing God’s self as you, as me, as the tree.  No one quite sees what each other experiences about life in quite the same way. Which makes it all so fantastic no matter who we are or where our travels have taken us even those whose life postcards may only come from the well trodden wooden porch teetering off of a worn down house somewhere off of IH-10 in West, Texas.  The clouds you have watched rolling across your sky ushering in the latest cold fronts will never be seen again in quite that mix of creme, purple and aqua sculpted by the winds into fantastic shapes and sizes that artists will try to tame again and again to the tarmac of their special papers.  

And oh the love we have felt.  Fantastic warm beams of honey sprung forth from the eternal well within.  I had a conversation with an angel once when I was feeling especially pitiful and miserable with my human life as I drove through a beautiful sunbeam streaked park on an everyday morning carrying out everyday mundane chores.  “Don’t you realize, Lynn” he said, “how fantastic it is to be human? How envious we, who are not in human form, are even as glorious as our life is in our realm?”  “Your lives are all definitions of love from the brightest into the deepest shadows.” He took me on a brief ride seeing my everyday life through his eyes, feeling the warm breeze tickling my skin as the sun teased my neck and chin.  I could just barely grasp the edges of beauty surrounding every single experience, good and bad, watching them all sing together like dust particles gleaming off light in the beam through a window.  For one minute, everything seemed to make such perfect sense on this ordinary morning.  How in the world are we humans able to experience ourselves in this constant world of wonder without overdosing on it all and splitting apart into molecules and disappearing into the ethers? I suppose many have done just that never to be seen again but for those who remain it is our challenge to navigate this wonderment of riches resisting the urge to foil over the windows of our worlds from fearing the beauty of it all.

We’re just blinks of God, you and me each of our stories weaving into one great tapestry of being.