Spiraling to My Center

I’m halfway into my luxe birthday gift, a hot stone massage, when Alexis squeezes my calf so hard I bite my lip. She lets up just as I’m just about to wave a white flag, and my leg feels amazing. Energy courses the length of my muscles.

In the midst of enjoying this flow, my head suddenly bursts with a visual of my whole life mapped as a swirling spiral. I see the paths of professions, personal relationships, education, travel, personal pursuits, stirring, seemingly unrelated, like stars in a galaxy, until they converge on a central point of uncompromised clarity and harmony, before swirling out again.

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Do Look Down

Sh*t. The horizon line I take for granted is gone. 

Panic rolls in with the waves that toss me. The boat deck sways in an arcing smile that I’m thoroughly convinced is mocking my fear. A forgotten snorkel hangs along my cheek as brine fills my mouth. Nothing in my freshwater training prepared me for the open ocean’s forcefulness.

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Love as Power Noun

God is love. Growing up, I heard this over and over, and was never particularly moved. Until it hit me very recently that I was not applying proper sentence structure. I had always processed this truism as, “God is loving.” 

Love, though, is a noun, not a tacked-on adjective. In fact, it’s a power noun, a predicate nominative equal in stature to the subject. God is love. Love is God. 

Love is God. Accept this, and suddenly God transforms from a cloud-hopping, hierarchical being to an energy force that beams through us, magnified in our actions and broadcast by the recipients of our love. If love is God, perhaps we are too immersed in the divine to see it clearly.

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