Tuesday 5/1/18 5:12 AM
One thing I love about riding my motorcycle to and from work is the raw way in which I sense the things around me. My senses seemed heightened, perhaps because I am much more aware of other drivers around me because of the greater risk they pose to my safety.
I smell the roadkill, the flowers blooming in the median, the freshly mown grass, the marijuana smoke coming from two cars in front of me as I sit at a light, and so on. I notice the grandeur of the mountains, the angles at which branches grow from a tree, the similarity between a leaf-laden tree and a cloud, and the stark differences between agapanthus leaves and flowers. I hear the roar of an engine, the cawing of a crow and the fluttering of its wings, the laughter of two friends walking on the sidewalk, and the squeaking of an ungreased bicycle wheel as it crosses my path while I wait at a light.
This heightened awareness sends my mind into overdrive. I think about the marvel of the human body with its perfect mix of olfactory receptors, rods and cones, and hammer, stirrup, and anvil, along with the appropriate nerves that allow me to experience these phenomena and other things I experience as I move through this world.
I also see the moon floating in the sky, the sun with its warm brilliance, and stars twinkling like signal lamps. These inspire thoughts of the magnitude of the universe and the vastness of space. Billions of stars separated by unimaginable distances with planets orbiting them remind me of the miracle of my own existence and its seeming insignificance.
The combination of all of this makes me think about the probability it all happened by chance over the course of fourteen billion years. The odds of all of this happening are so miniscule that it might as well be zero. It is then my thoughts turn to God and my heart and mind begin to bleed gratitude. Thank you, God, for life. Thank you for the senses to experience this vast universe with its intricate complexities and indescribable beauty.