The Proposal and The Moment

The End: Of a Day, a Task, and a Daffodil

The End: Of a Day, a Task, and a Daffodil


June 9, 2016 8:56 AM

I’ve just finished sending the book proposal (cover letter, synopsis, outline, and sample chapters) off to a few publishers. That’s a big task checked off the list and I’m relieved and I’m happy.

Yesterday, I woke up with the idea to add to the end of each Aspect’s chapter an entry titled, The Moment. Each will be a look at this moment as seen through the eyes of that Aspect.

I wrote one yesterday for the Soul Aspect as soon as I woke up. Later, in the coffee shop I’m sitting in right now, I wrote the one for the Mystic Aspect.

I enjoyed them so much that I might start doing these more often, posting them to this blog.

Since I’m sitting in the same coffee shop (same seat even), here’s what I wrote yesterday for the Mystic Aspect’s The Moment:

The Moment

Twelve customers sit in the cafe.

To my left, a group of four european men, happily chat away in a language I don’t understand. Each wears a t-shirt proclaiming their travels. Through their eyes, She sees. Through their memories, She remembers. Through their hearts, She cherishes.

A young couple sit in the booth across from me. The woman is bored. The man, a toothpick in his mouth, scrolls through his phone. “Two iced teas,” the girl behind the counter calls out and the young couple pick them up and head out the door. Through the window, the young woman sips her tea and TaoGod savors it.

Outside, an older man, camera in hand, rushes by, glancing left and right, intently looking for a shot, a shot indicative of his experience on Route 66. He is in a hurry, the tour buses don’t encourage loitering—don’t encourage leisurely enjoyment. Time schedules must be met and the bus driver stands at the corner and feels the stress. And She feels the bus driver’s stress. She feels the photographer’s frustration.

She lives. She breathes. She is us.

I look up from what I just typed and notice three people in the cafe looking over at me. I don’t know why. I should be used to it by now, but I’m not. There is less of me, and because of this, there is more of Her. Do they see Her? Do they feel Her? I don’t know, but I like to think so.

A woman exists the bathroom and sits across from a man, one of the ones who moments ago was staring at me. The woman lovingly touches his forehead, rubbing away an invisible speck and TaoGod feels the love and the touch and the connection.

TaoGod doesn’t interfere. She enjoys.

The wall on the far side of the cafe is covered with framed photographs. Photos by a local artist, all for sale. Through my eyes, She sees the photos. Through my mind, She steps with me into the photographer’s shoes as he triggered the camera’s shutter—seeing what he saw as he captured the image. She hears my thoughts and sees my sights and feels my heart. I wonder if, as I imagined the photographer’s thoughts, She scrolled back in time and entered him and lived those moments all over again. I’d like to think so.

A beautiful young coed leans on the light pole three feet from my window and waves her boyfriend in closer. She knows how she wants the photo to look and he complies. She snatches the phone from his hands, glances down at the image and continues on. He hurries after her. The girl’s out of his league and they both know it. TaoGod feels their conflicted emotions and is grateful nonetheless.

Two teenage girls step inside and the screen door slams behind them. They jump in surprise and giggle in embarrassment and She smiles and revels in their joy and silliness.

Bored, distracted, curious, stressed, engaged, loving, happy, discouraged, embarrassed,… emotions all—all being experienced by a group of strangers in a small tourist town. All unknowingly shared with the Divine.

To the Mystic, every moment is a spiritual moment.

To the Mystic, every moment is a gift from the Divine.

And to the Divine, every moment is a gift from you.

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