Several days ago, I went for a walk around sunset. It was one of those rainy days in Southern California where the sky is full of dark clouds, but then these patches of bright blue break through. Misty clouds hung low upon the foothills. The air was cold and crisp. Everything had this golden tinge from the sunset. And it was all I could do to not drop to my knees in the street and weep in praise and thanksgiving.
"Look out your window. It doesn’t matter which one. They all will do. What do you see? Trees, hills, grass, concrete, metal bars, trash, crap, and all the other debris of modern life? No, you see something wonderful, something magical and wondrous.
... What you see is a gift. A gift more precious than anything, ANYTHING that has or ever will be imagined by human intelligence. You see our reason for existence, our life’s work and mission: to be a song of praise about life itself.
... You know it is true. You’ve felt it in your heart, in your soul. It’s that little piece of you that gets caught up in the drama of life, the drama of nature, the drama of history. That feeling in the back of your throat that you are part of something that you can’t quite grasp and yet you know is there. That just makes you want to cry because it’s so big and bold and beautiful. That makes you want to scream out in joy and ecstasy, thanksgiving and praise for being a part of it.
In that moment, in that very moment, whether it lasts a second or a lifetime, you know that you have touched the face of the divine. Whatever name you want to call him or her or it, you have touched that face and you will never be the same. Nothing will ever be the same again."
"But we talk too much. It makes it all seem so trivial. Just let us be who we are. Just let yourself be. It will be enough."
Sometimes, silent awe is enough.