There are moments that change you.

There are moments that change you.
The texture and taste infects you.
The moment, frozen in time, forever.
An exquisite stroke of the artist’s brush.

When you recognize beauty for the first time, it reshapes you.
This year, when I set up our Christmas tree, Enzo, my 1 1/2 year old son, was transfixed.
The bliss of beauty is universal.
His eyes enamored in this vortex of glimmering white lights.
In his magical state of thinking, every time he blinked, the magic was gone.
It’s when he opens his eyes again,
His body rejoices, as though he was seeing the lights for the first time.
He desperately didn’t want to go to bed.
His total being, revolted… screaming:
Lights!
Lights!
Lights!
I know that feeling. When you see something that captures you, why would you want to leave. It’s like a flying dream. Bounding effortlessly, unrestrained; fearlessly flying in, up, and around the world you’re dreaming into existence. The heartbreak of waking up from that space is surreal. As the strings of the ethereal are plucked from your grasp, you wake up to your terrestrial consciousness.
Beauty is so infectious.
The auditory vacuum of a thick snow storm. Immersed in a plethora of puffy flakes. That muffled space, which cradles me so tenderly in its soft bosom.
A bliss that captures every sentient cell in my body.
Watching Enzo, reeling from the pain…
Having to leave the lights.
It was heart breaking.
He is so young.
There is no way to ensure him
That the lights will be there in the morning.
Isn’t that the thing?
The fear that the lights won’t be there in the morning?

“We are all the same. Listen to the reeds as they sway apart; hear them speak of lost friends. At birth, you were cut from your bed, crying and grasping in separation. Everyone listens, knowing your song. You yearn for others who know your name, And the words to your lament. We are all the same, all the same, Longing to find our way back; Back to the one, back to the only one.”
~Rumi