A God You Can See & Touch

A God You Can See & Touch

Butter Beans,

Recently I was listening to a woman speak on spirituality, and she shared a beautiful story about how several years ago her house had burned to the ground.  “It was a devastating loss,” she said “and yet it was the greatest blessing, because it brought me out into the country, where I found a God that I could see and touch.”

My ears perked like a wolf.

As a lifelong seeker, I seem to always be doing  just that. Seeking.

Why do I go to dance and yoga classes? Seeking to feel the divine in my bones.

Why do I abstain from addictive patterns? Seeking to make space for the divine in my life.

Why do I hike and pray and meditate? Seeking to hear the voice of the divine in my thoughts.

Of course, the reason I do all this seeking is because it often feels joyous.

But there are also times where it feels utterly LABORIOUS.

So when this woman said that she found a way to see, taste, feel and touch God, I drew in closer to take notes on where to find the shortcut.

“By moving to the country I took up a hiking meditation, and started to notice the miracle of an acorn becoming a tree, and the fact that every single day, the sun rises and sets without me having to do ANYTHING to make it happen.”

My gaze drifted outside the window to the trees which were bare from the freeze of winter, naked without noticing, like Adam and Eve.

I looked at the muddy grass which, currently  brown and showing no signs of life, was quietly hibernating like a sleeping bear under the frozen ground, gathering and containing it’s energy for the roar of spring.

I looked up to the moisture in the sky we call clouds, always changing, always moving, just like the moisture inside my very own cells.

I know that finding God/Goddess/The Divine in nature is not news.

But there was something about that particular moment where it occurred to me that any time I’m feeling alone, anytime my seeking feels like it’s going nowhere, anytime I feel like the voice of God can’t be heard, or the presence of God can’t be felt, all I need to do is look out the window.




Tangible. Physical. Alive.

Thank the sweet baby Venus.

All my love,






Image via Everyday Parisian

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