Present?

Yesterday after school I had to run in to town for some groceries. It was an amazing day outside. After nearly a week straight of rainy/cloudy days, yesterday was the first day that the sun had managed to show its face again. It was the kind of day that makes one want to go to the park, or the zoo, or eat ice cream while walking barefoot in the grass.

The air had been purged of its impurities and the sky was crystal blue with white puffy clouds wondering along every so often. The backdrop of the normally drab mountains that envelop the city were distinct and defined. I could even see little patches of grass growing on the hillsides that are normally just dust. The taller mountains in the distance were once again covered with a new layering of snow. The sights of this land were (and are) captivating. And as we drove into the city, I was once again reminded of what an amazing life I lead. Not many people have the privilege of doing what I do…seeing what I see. I often forget that.

I forget that I live a blessed (and somewhat unusual) life almost every day. I get so wrapped up in getting up, going to school, going to the office, and then going home that I forget that there is a much bigger world swirling around outside me. My days become routine and honestly, as crazy as it sounds, this place has become very much the norm. Most of the time, I forget the thrill that this land once pumped through my veins. I merely survive each day, rather than thrive in each moment. I hate that.

And then there are the epiphanies…the sudden realizations that I am where I am. Yesterday was one of those days. Maybe it was the way the sun shone on their faces…the wrinkles born out of the years lived under unimaginable circumstances…the turbans, the veils…their eyes. Maybe it was the hectic traffic where cars merged with donkeys, bicycles, pedestrians, and carts carrying the day’s latest produce…the way the horns were honking…the generators were buzzing…and the city was alive with activity. Maybe it was the man stopping to pray on the side of the road as he journeyed by bicycle to his home…kneeling religiously to the east…bowing, rising, and repeating. Maybe it was her smile when I spoke in her native tongue…or the scoffing from the beggar when I refused to give money. Maybe it was all these things and maybe it was none of them. Maybe it was something deeper. Something from within…something from Above. Something calling me to wake up from this monotonous slumber.

Whatever it was, I felt it. I felt every breath…heard every noise…smelled every smell. Out of that “something,” life was reborn within me. “I am here,” I thought. “I am really here.”