open

sometimes, we just don't see what's right in front of us. this week, i have become consistently aware of the fact that the very thing i'm looking for, often searching desperately for, is staring me directly in the eyes. this happened thursday with my keys (2 hours of my life i'll never get back), and merely set the precedent for the days to come. so i started thinking...if everything i'm frantically trying to locate--if the thing i cannot place is usually in my immediate vicinity despite my ignorance, then perhaps this rings true in less-physical realms. so, i decided to intentionally open my eyes--a bit wider, anyway. and i started noticing things...beautiful things. 

i was feeling numb this weekend. my grandfather just passed away last week and i was feeling as though my emotions had literally run dry. i wanted god to say something to me; i wanted to hear him call my name and i was getting nothing. in this detached state, i met my girlfriends for yoga on the bluff overlooking the ocean. we meet under these beautiful coral trees that were donated to the city of long beach simply on behalf of its citizens as a gift to enhance their lives. i have done yoga a fair bit in this spot, but never did i notice the placard on the large stone at the base of one of the twelve trees. it mentioned the nature of the gift: it was undeserved and unwarranted. it was simply, as written, given on behalf of the citizens. as we stretched in the shade of the lush treetops overhead, i felt an overwhelming sensation of god's love for me. as i turned my heart toward the canopy of foliage above me, i could see the sunlight breaking through. the ocean breeze swept my face and i felt an immediate sense of peace--god had set up this gorgeous moment just for me. his creation...his calm...was more than enough for me. there i was, in triangle pose, undone. sapping out like an idiot.

in case you were wondering, that means i cried. but only a little bit, of course. because, you see, it's quite awkward, and difficult, really, to cry when your entire body is horizontal. but that's neither here nor there. suffice it to say that the very moment i opened my eyes to what was in my visage, i found what i was looking for. god spoke to me. but he is always speaking to me--the real issue is my failure to listen...to look...to hear and see. moreover, upon reading that rock--the tree dedication--i remembered the cross. the beautiful gift that i am beyond undeserving of. it is this gift that inspires me to give as well. i want to be a person who gives without desire for recognition or reciprocation; i want to give on behalf of "the citizens". i want to give because i love the people in my city and world. 

it's too much, really. god is just so good to me. and i am cheesing out...really going for it, because i'm about to upload some photos of the sun. but they are from my neighborhood, and they are insane and gorgeous, and frankly, pretty capable of making atheistic armhairs stand on end. if you just start opening your eyes, you will start to trip out. god is everywhere.