There’s nothing mystical happening here.

I’m waiting in bumper to bumper traffic, crawling and stopping, merging and signaling.  Patience is the only virtue in this line of cars and there is nothing to do but idle while the economy bag of organic frozen blackberries beads liquid among my groceries in the backseat.

I don’t want to wait for invitations to transcend.  With all these chores, a moment of profundity doesn’t seem to fit anywhere with Costco or gas stations or credit card bills.  What’s enlightening about being stalled out with end-of-the day traffic congestion?  Yet, I let the Chevrolet emblem that I have been staring at on the car in front of me, transform into a key attempting to unlock my perception.  Subtly, the buildings on both sides of the street come into sharper focus.  The sign for the Wahoo restaurant bears a giant Hawaiian fish-hook, waiting.  The wall of Boss Frog’s surf rental shop is adorned with a hand-painted sea goddess, beckoning.  A man in a lime green sweatshirt crosses the street on the light.  The red turn signal on the Toyota truck flashes in jeweled dimensions.

With a simple willingness, can I perceive this scene more totally?  Can I become more aware – awake – as I hold the steering wheel, inching past McDonald’s on my left?

Eventually, the bottle neck uncorks and traffic begins to flow again.  That driver’s window of mine is now fixed and I can roll it down and feel the wind.  Afternoon sun streams from behind Anahola’s majestic mountain and mingles with strands of my hair that catch the draft and swirl above the highway.  Susheela Raman has been chosen by the Cosmic DJ in the iPod shuffle.  The music features the ancient sound of tablas that tap my heart.  Harken India.  Move me to places beyond space and time.  To realms I do not understand, only feel.

Window down, wind rushing, sun shining, Susheela singing.

Never mind that the day’s work is not quite finished and there is still a meal to make.  That the ultra-sound results weren’t what I hoped for.  That my boot-inspired fantasy of travel may not turn out the way I imagined.  Jeb will need help with homework.  My solo mothering journey shows no end in sight.  And at day’s end I will say good night to a full moon – alone – for at least the 50th time.  In the morning there will still be bills to pay.

Never mind all that.

This precious moment with sound and wind and sun is the iridescent jewel.  The inner reaches of my heart aligned with this exacting instant – this is mine.  The greatest gift.  Ever-available to be received.  Experienced.  Felt.  Lived.

I say, yes and thank you.  Dance it for as long as I am able.