Being the Universe

This is not just a concept—it is something I feel alive in every cell of my body.

Photo taken by me of my dog, Holiday Napkins, splashing in water

The sun was gentle as I stepped onto the trail, my three dogs racing ahead, excited by the morning’s promise. The air felt alive, filled with the crisp scent of pine and wet earth, and the mist clung to the landscape. For a moment, we were immersed in a cloud. I sensed the photons dancing around me, as if I were becoming part of the cloud itself. Yet as much as I longed to linger in that oneness, I needed to stay pack leader.

We followed the trail to the river, its surface shimmering as if a thousand stars had fallen into the water. I settled on a smooth rock near the edge, watching the sunlight burn off the morning fog. Pain nagged at my neck—a familiar ache from hours spent typing—but here, by the river, I could feel it beginning to ease. The light, bending and refracting in the water, felt like a balm for my body and spirit.

Light travels in a straight line. I have always been fascinated by that simple truth. But watching it bend in the water, seeing it shift and dance, aroused a kind of wonder that surged through my body, awakening what felt like a divine connection. My feel-good hormones surged, and for a moment, I felt deeply close to God.

As the dogs circled around me, I thought about how humanity’s understanding of light—its straight paths and its curves—had unlocked so many doors. The European Renaissance, Galileo’s telescope, and the very way we have come to understand the cosmos and the microscopic world all stem from this simple observation. Bending light, I realized, is a gateway to power—technological, intellectual, and even spiritual. Yet, even as these thoughts circled, my body reminded me of its aches, pulling me out of my reflections.

That is why we had come here—to the river, to the light. Speaking directly to nature in this way became like a prayer, an invocation. In the shimmering patterns on the water, I saw glimpses of a new world waiting for us to recognize its billions of years of evolution – and then devote ourselves to its transformation. In this moment, I understood what my teacher, Marc Gafni, and my global community, mean when they speak of “Outrageous Love.”

This is not just a concept—it is something I feel alive in every cell of my body.

I can directly feel myself being part of the universe.

I stretched out my arms, letting my hands graze the cold water. The universe was alive in me, and I knew it could be alive in everyone if only we were willing to feel it. How else could we evolve the universe if we didn’t first feel its pulse within us? Feel that deeply refined inner life force…that alive presence of becoming ever more.

The wind picked up, carrying golden light across the river. Slowly, I laid my body down in the cold water, arms outstretched, surrendering. This was my offering, my devotion to the evolution of love. I closed my eyes, felt the current hold me, its strength and gentleness intertwined.

Sheeta startled me, by dropping a stick next to my head. I rose, the cold water dripping from my body/limbs, and smiled. The ache in my neck was gone. I chuckled to myself, knowing I had been pushing my body too hard, and that cold therapy always helps for a while. Gratitude welled up in me—for the light, for the river, for this hour of peace and presence. The pain, the ache, the worries were all gone. I thanked the universe, thanked the consciousness that binds us all, and leaned into the love of this fleeting, beautiful day as the dogs and I headed back to my car.