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.
