Midnight Meat Train

Today, I say, “Yes, God,” to everything

I recently accepted a lovely invitation for a visit to the shore. Schedules being what they were, I had just 27 hours, but those sun-washed, beach hours became time out of time.

The hours puffed up and expanded as if there were yeast-fed. There was time to revel in the moment, time to inhale ocean breezes, time to play tag with sea foam, and, even, time to stroll the boardwalk with lemonade and caramel corn at hand. It was grand.

The shift in time and perception began the moment when I found myself comfortably settled on the deck overlooking the ocean. In what felt like the immediate flip of a switch, I found myself dropping into a channel of being-ness. I was in heaven; grade A, first class heaven on earth.

Any stress I held seemed to slip off my shoulders as I inhaled salt-infused air and settled into the rhythms of the surf. The rushing roar of the water was like a lullaby soothing and comforting all the rough edges. The sound of the waves literally transported me into another dimension.

Later, as I sat in late-night solitude and tranquility on the deck, I felt a communion with the cosmos. I felt gratitude for all. I was awash in the beauty and bounty before me. And in that state of happy connection, there was a wee voice that echoed ominously. There was the startling and, somewhat embarrassing, whisper that told me I have been afraid to say, “Yes,” to God in a complete way.

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