take a ride with me

I rode my bike to Lake Artemesia with my wonderful friend Christian Thursday night after changing into warmer clothes that would bear the evening chill. From the lake, stars were more visible than on campus, and one in particular stood apart from the rest. I doubt it was the North Star, but something in it's bright glimmer had me hooked on the idea that I could follow its glow somewhere awe-inspiring and peaceful.

After talking for a while and laughing for an undetermined, lengthy bit, we boarded our bikes once again to feel the cold wind against our bear hands and faces. The street lights' illumination got caught in the moist air and hovered an orange-hue against the receding grey pavement. Our shadows rode their bikes freely as we tried tirelessly to catch up to them like mice running in wheels, except we knew the game we were playing. Eventually, the streetlights disappeared and our stretch of bike-riding bliss came to an end.

Paved before me was an uphill path leading to my warm bed and inspiring walls. As we peddled to the split in the path, I slowed down to say goodbye to Christian and thank him for taking me to the lake. Things didn't happen as smoothly as I had planned..."Ah!" I proclaimed dramatically in a voice that matched my teetering, wobbling fall. My bike must really love me, I thought, as she straddled me from the top position. I lay there, laughing, not wanting to get up--partly because of the embarrassment of falling off my bike, partly because of the piece atop me, and partly because of the view from the ground. From there, the only direction to look was up. And through the hazy sidewalk lights, I managed to see my star.

This was my first bike fall, but I'd like you to know that it wasn't as horrible, bloody, or scraped as I feared it would be. The bruise is loud and clear on my right knee, but something about seeing that star after falling... Something about looking up and knowing that I was not alone, no matter how bruised or low I felt... Something about that moment shined with divinity.

So tonight I'm shining my own light on one of nature's beautiful gifts that gave me peace through my fall. This universe is offering me gifts everyday, every moment. Some instants, when my mind is clear and my heart steady, I'm lucky enough to realize how much I've been given. In those moments, I am filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and joy...and it is then that I wonder if I need to "thank God"... or if living to keep this world beautiful is enough as long as my heart is heavy with thanks.

They say that to look for God is to find God. I'm afraid to even admit to myself that I've been looking. But in so many walks of life, I feel this nurturing and giving mother who wants to blanket me in warmth. And I believe that maybe I'm starting to see her patches, unfold her quilt, and slowly let her tenderness rest upon me--comforted by the one thing I feel with certainty--I have been blessed to be part of this glorious world, and I am forever thankful for that. Perhaps like so many who wish to say thank you directly...perhaps, I too, will find my path to her someday...

But in the mean time, we've got at least a bit of good news--if God exists, she's definitely a woman! ;-)