It’s a a phenomenally beautiful day and I’m sailing down the city street in my “yellow brick road” car, just a tad late getting started for a yoga class on the other side of town. While noticing the late day sun beaming down through the huge old trees I pass, I start to think about my Dad– although I’m not sure why at that particular moment. I’m wistful thinking how wonderful it could be to just pick up the phone and call him later in the evening—-impossible as it is. He’s been gone for 4 years now.
As I turn onto the main road, I realize I’m going to be stuck right in the middle of a rush-hour tie-up at the big intersection ahead. The first response is “ah, crap–now I’m really going to be late,” and then a moment to catch myself with a bit of a mindset change, “it’s all good,” and my car queues up behind the long line. Stopping to have a look around me, I notice the old church at the corner and am now just starting to tune in to the bells that are ringing out from it. At first I think it just manages to sound like pleasant church chimes until I’m able to recognize the song—- “Amazing Grace”—- the very song Dad often mentioned as a favorite.
A comforting sign for me.
I get the feeling Source seems to be listening. And Dad.