In reflection, I see my true self. It's only through that mirror that the inclinations and traces of the divine within me are made known, are appreciated, and are free to ripen.
Lately I’ve seen Him here in the physical:
In the feel of my bare feet padding on the path littered with cottonwood leaves that leads from my place to my friend’s. in the weeks to come this feeling will be all the more frequent as His pattern in the seasons steadily progresses and He carpets the earth. I so anticipate the smell that will accompany the falling.
In (silly, yes) evaporative cooling. A friend’s grandmother says, “Women don’t sweat: horses sweat, men perspire, and ladies glisten.” When my I’m at my most saturated with the glistening, (which occurs about 10:30am in full sun and doesn’t relent until I find shade or A/C ) the curls around my face will start to stretch to my chin, release a drop, and retract. I like it. Until the Farm in August, I never knew I could drench a whole set of clothes. All the girls here end up very surprised at how well our sweat glands perform as our bodies adapt to the heat. I'm thankful for it.
Also in the allegorical:
The music that is truly beautiful to my ears and lifts me to God needs the harmonious and melodic and it needs this within a minor key. A beautiful orchestration has to encompass the minor key. Minor is not ugly, it has more pull and give and strain between dissonance and resolve- it pulls at your emotions: the beauty within a dissonant, heightened climax is enough to make you want to cry -just as it nears the resolution. Then how sweet is the resolve. He resolved some things for me lately and I can now see the whole of it as (painfully) beautiful.
