BATHTUB MUSINGS:
Ripples of Life
Valerie Sigler
The Ripples of Life
Stripping
the layers of my identities from my exhausted body, I immerse myself into the
hot womb of bubbling water. My neurons
sigh in harmony as the stresses melt away.
My internal cacophony quiets to a dull roar as I become aware of the
staccato beat emanating from my chest.
Consciously, I inhale deep cleansing breaths as the last vestiges of
tension evaporate. The worlds I carried
upon my shoulders are buoyed by the effervescent liquid caressing me. I am Atlas no more. My fountain of youth is contained within the
hot tub.
Muscles
relaxed, I turn off the jets, preferring the sound of babbling brooks and
scampering squirrels. My view is
dominated by majestic spires reaching to the heavens. I imagine a young native clamoring up the
mountain summit cherishing the landscape below.
Aware of the eternal cycle, the seam between past and present
disappears. I am Spirit exulting in the
Unity of All That Is.
Quiet
descends. The graceful lace drifting
from the heavens gently blankets my world as one individual flake rests upon her
sister ice crystals. Moments pass. A world recently vibrant with autumn colors transitions into a monochromatic canvas. The simplicity of my white and gray world shelters
me, bringing a sense of comfort I do not fully comprehend. Only whispers of tree branches stretching to
accept the burden of wet snow invade the hushed silence.
Mother Earth expresses her ever
changing moods with a beautiful ballet of seasons. To be in the audience of her display is a
privilege. With a sense of wonder, I become an observer of a tradition
billions of years old. A revelation
startles me: Humans may come and humans
may go, but the cycle of creation is eternal.
A metamorphosis sprouts within as
I feel this Truth take root in the depths of my Soul.
This tiny piece
of real estate I occupy has experienced billions of years of change. Since the beginning of Earth’s history, the
plot of ground I sit upon has undergone numerous transformations: a traumatic
infancy of repeated asteroid bombardments, a childhood in the center of a hot
molten core, a youth as an ocean floor, a juvenile covered in miles of ice, and,
now young adulthood as a mountain.
Only for the briefest of moments has
mankind shared in this remarkable journey, able to appreciate Earth’s majestic
beauty. Slipping briefly into this world, I am honored
to witness Her life at this moment. One day this
rock I sit upon will explosively ignite, returning to stardust, only to live
again as yet another body. The cosmos’
cycle continues, regardless of man’s presence -- a realization I find
comforting.
Hours pass
and the clouds that deposited several inches of white magic in my world have
drifted away. Replacing them are
brightly twinkling stars teasing me with the secrets they know. Celestial contemplations consume me. The sheer expanse of space overwhelms my
senses. What mysteries do the galaxies
have to share?
Once again my imagination takes flight. Random, chaotic thoughts fill my
reverie. Will my Spirit be able to
transverse the universes and unravel the riddles once I am unencumbered by my
prison of flesh? Do I have the power to
choose my Destiny? My planet of
incarnation? My sphere of interacting
Souls? My path of discovery?
I dream of witnessing the evolution
of a star’s explosive death as it becomes a nursery for new life, confirmation
of the natural cycle of reincarnation. As
the heavens watch, I realize my deepest desire is to participate in the Circle
of Life.
Moments.
My life is but a brief blip in the enormous vastness of eternity.
Ripples.
Yet, my life creates ripples in the fabric of existence with the
potential of eternally expanding.
Impact.
The lives I touch will touch others who will reach others who impact yet others until the circle is complete.
Knowing that
the mysteries of the universe are eternal brings peace to my soul. Our solar
system is a mere four and a half billion years old. Yet, in another four billion years, the
Andromeda Galaxy will collide with the Milky Way Galaxy, merging the two
immense neighborhoods into one enormous, chaotic community. Eventually, equilibrium will be achieved
with each entity finding a new space to inhabit. Although our sun and its children are an
expected casualty, rebirth awaits. Their
ashes will once again become a life giving nebula.
Although I
obviously will not be around in present form, I hope to bear witness to the transformation
that must occur. Change is an eternal
truth. Inspiration is found in the
chaotic certainty of existence. To
survive is to adapt.
Enveloped in nature’s arms, I am
inspired by the eternally chaotic structure of Life.
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