believe

I never took to the notion of luck. If I had, I may have just spiraled into depression. Instead, I’ve always felt there was something greater happening. In some mysterious fashion our daily journeys seem to tangle with this force and, like ripples in water – transcend across our lives.

At times, the difficulty in this lifestyle is the nagging sense that I should be able to figure it all out. I lapse into stages of frustration. There may be a “sign” or a message right in front of me…but I just can’t put my finger on its meaning. However, I still falter at understanding exactly how fireflies light up – yet that doesn’t stop my amazement at their nightly luminescence. In that metaphor I find comfort; the freedom to just be and let the messages present themselves when the time is right.

Following signs, whether found in the waking or dream world, is the synergistic force my spirit willfully clings to. Many times, the messages or signs presented act as a simple shot of espresso – adding a dose of mystical enlightenment to the routine. Other times they culminate to something of greater magnitude.

One morning I woke up with an extreme sense of anxiety that I was going to be late to work. Each time I looked at the clock, I saw the wrong time. I kept reading the clock as being later than it was. I had more than ample time to get to my destination, but the restlessness grew more each minute. I decided it was best to follow the signs I had seen and hopefully ease the nagging agitation. I quickly got ready and left early for work.

The journey took me past the cemetery where most of my family and many friends are buried. The town was still quiet and sleepy as I drove through, blanketed by the morning dewy haze. I gazed up at the cemetery as I passed and, out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a half-naked child running through the gravestones. I’ve seen ghosts before, but usually they disappear just as soon as I see them. This was different. I pulled into the driveway and realized the tiny spirit was indeed a one year old diaper-clad boy. After calling local authorities and spending a bit of time with the little one, I once again set out on my way to work. I was so very thankful that I had been moved to leave the house early. I thought that was the reason for the message, so that I could help with that lost boy.

However, as I approached my work location I realized that little boy had actually saved my life. I crested a hill to find a horrific accident involving multiple cars. There were obvious fatalities. Had I left for work like normal, I would not have been slowed down by the little boy. Instead, I would have been driving through the intersection at the time of the accident…perhaps not coming out the other side.

I don’t know how it all works and I don’t need to. If I did – I might not have the delightful pleasure of approaching each encounter, each stranger, each precious experience with loved ones, as the next mystical moment in which, it seems, life is best lived.