Yesterday the universe love tapped me.
Riding a bike in the city conjures my inner Viking. I am swift and strong on my black stallion of a cruiser, galloping through the city trenches. My raven black hair flows like Zena’s as I charge through skinny lanes dodging strollers, squirrels, potholes, and cars. Then one day (yesterday) this bold and brave warrior fell, by way of a rusty white Jeep’s driver side door.
My brain jostled. My elbow doubled in size and evolved to purple. My front wheel became out of true.
While looking over my bodily damages I discovered a heart shaped scrape on the back of my left shoulder. After a moment of thinking about this souvenir, I realized the impact of what really happened. The Jeep driver’s door didn’t smack me off my bike and onto Lawrence Ave, the universe did. I was exactly parallel to the door the instant it was swung open. A split second sooner or later and nothing would have happened. I fell out of synchronicity with the rhythm of the world for an instant.
Was I lovingly nudged as a reminder of larger things at work like gravity, the fragility of life, my mortality? I’m surely convinced that it’s not just me searching for meaning. I have a paper-cut-out-heart-shaped scab, which clearly MEANS something and in the most ridiculous way it tells me I am supposed to DO something and act on the urge to effectuate personal change. I feel certain I was knocked on my ass for a reason, and I feel compelled to share this fact in a public way. And I wonder if I make a habit of sharing these blips of my bubble world something meaningful will surface and maybe be learned.
I also have a scar on my right thumb in the shape of a wishbone, true fact.
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