The meaning of life, from an unexpected source

I had the opportunity to catch a glimpse of Oprah Winfrey's program last Monday. Her guest was an author, Geneen Roth, who has written a book about women’s relationships with food and their relationships with God. The premise of the book is that if you get things right with yourself and with God, then you can probably structure a healthier relationship with food; you will have less of a tendency to fill up the emptiness with food.

Oprah had read the book, clearly believes in the content, and along with Ms. Roth, was enthusiastically offering her commentary and taking questions from the audience.


Several members of the studio audience asked questions about family mealtimes, dieting, busy schedules, etc. One particular question was a bit unstructured. The viewer seemed discouraged that she was never quite able to get ahead professionally. The question may have also had an underlying inquiry about food, but I don’t recall that now.


I was busy putting dishes in the dishwasher and as Oprah started to answer this question, I stopped to listen. Then I walked closer to the television. It was a watershed moment: Oprah was giving this viewer the essential answer to life. Right there. In person. And everyone, including me, got the added benefit of receiving this important piece of information too.


It may sound like I am dismissing Oprah’s communication as a bit of trivia, but I am not. Quite the contrary. The secret that Oprah shared is a fundamentally important lesson and while a lot of people know it, it is still elusive. This knowledge becomes easy to misplace in the multi-tasking, multi-threaded, deadline oriented lives that we lead.


Oprah told her viewer, point blank, that the starting point for her (and all of us) was to humbly give thanks to God for the many many blessings in her life. Live in that place of gratitude. And be thankful for the things that are yet to come, including the experiences that will teach us lessons. You are not to cast about comparing your life with what you perceive as bounty in others’ lives. You do not know the burdens they carry because you do not walk in their shoes. Look at your own life, connect with God in your heart and walk forward in joy.


Now, I’m not trying to put words in Oprah’s mouth. There are no quotation marks; she didn’t say this exactly, but it is what I heard. This singular all-important message. The central meaning of life. The key to human happiness.


I doubt that this viewer, who showed up at the Harpo studio earlier that day, had any inkling of the gift that was she was about to receive. A gift that has the ability to change her perception of everything. I didn’t expect to receive it either, randomly tuning in to see Oprah’s program for about the third time in my life. But it is a miracle that I did and I am ever so grateful.


Thank you Oprah.

Statistically average

I took one of those quick online quizzes this morning that offered amazing insight into the mysteries of my psyche, and conveniently offered to sell me some cool home organizing-storage-décor items at the same time.

Isn’t it really thoughtful, the way the internet is designed to give you pseudo-useless information while simultaneously peddling goods? Yeah, I think so too.

Hmmm. Anyway.

The quiz was supposed to tell me if I’m more of a right-brain thinker or a left-brain thinker. Turns out, I’m in the middle. Not hyper-distracted big-picture clutter queen or detail-driven fastidiously organized label geek.

Isn’t that the way it always seems to be? In this big melting pot of America, most of us live somewhere near the center of the bell curve. I guess if we didn’t, we’d find ourselves on reality TV. One of those hoarder shows or the home-make-over programs that get people to throw out their smelly old stuff and humbly, tearfully, start over with a fresh coat of paint, a custom-built shelving unit and a basket of fresh flowers.

That’s living in the fringe, but apparently that is precisely the definition of entertainment for many of us in the middle of the bell curve. However macabre that might be.

How many tuned in to the Deadliest Catch broadcast yesterday evening? I’m guessing a lot, but having absolutely no knowledge of television viewership statistics, couldn’t even venture an estimate. This segment of society in no way resembles the middle of the bell curve. These fishermen absolutely live in the outer extremities. Everything about their lifestyle and avocation is foreign to most of us. But it is a curiosity. Maybe for that reason precisely, because it is foreign.

Are we a society of voyeurs? Glimpsing into the lives of those that live beyond two standard deviations from the mean? Or does the advent of reality television serve to bridge the gap by demonstrating the common bonds of humanity? Underscoring the things we have in common—pride, humility, courage, loss, love, faith, family.

Hmmm. Don’t know.

Gratitude at work

Eight years ago I decided to change my career and I left my job in the private sector to become involved, as a volunteer, in the world of nonprofit. I was not sure what I was going to end up doing by way of a permanent career change, but I knew I wanted to immerse myself, meet people and learn about this unfamiliar segment of the business world as quickly as possible.

Eventually, I wound up working at an organization for which I have great respect. I believe in the mission and admire the brilliant scientists here that make contributions to our world. I am grateful to be a small part of this organization. It is something much bigger than me and it stands for something good. It touches lives and sometimes even saves lives.

Today, one of the scientists here was named in Time magazine’s annual list of the world’s 100 most influential people. He is a professor and chair of the Department of Lymphoma and Myeloma. His field of research involves harnessing the human immune system to develop a cancer vaccine and this important work is gaining attention. Congratulations to Larry Kwak, M.D., Ph.D.

In harmony

I walked down the street today to attend a presentation: 1 block west then 1 block north. The day is lovely and I noticed blooming daylilies and plenty of chirping sparrows along the way. One of the buildings I passed has now been entirely fenced; any sort of access to the perimeter is prohibited. The building will be demolished at some date in the not too distant future as the Texas Medical Center makes way for expansion.

The process of expansion is one that seems to have no end. New roads, new buildings, new floors added to the tops of existing buildings. The vast acreage of Hermann Park lies along the northern edge of the medical center. A drive into this complex from the freeway affords commuters a picturesque view of the golf course. Recently, a broader, new road was constructed to channel traffic alongside Braes Bayou more efficiently and as a result, the older road near the edge of the golf course was abandoned and has been returned to the park as restored green space.

This is something I have not ever before observed. A road demolished and the land restored to augment nature. It makes me happy that the civil engineers and transportation planners included this as one of the goals of the construction project.

In my personal corner of the world, Cristy has taken significant strides to convert our own yard into a nature friendly habitat. There are 2 squirrel feeders, a bird feeder, hummingbird feeder, two birdhouses and a birdbath. Numerous wind chimes provide soothing musical sounds that help mask the noise of nearby lawnmowers or tools. She has made our yard a welcome place for birds and squirrels and we are rewarded daily with visitors of all varieties.

The energy inside our homes is, I think, derived in large part from its external surroundings. Windows that offer views of water, sky, foliage and our feathered neighbors give us the elements in Feng Shui that represent vital Chi energy. A balance with nature and with spirit. Harmonious.

Amid a sometimes perplexing blend of chaos, I am reminded of the harmony woven throughout the moments of my day.

Living from scratch

I read a very inspired essay by Anne at life in pencil the other day all about the concept of living from scratch. In other words, starting anew, paving a new path in any part of our lives. And oddly, my father’s voice appears in my head when reflecting on this idea: the words inertia and trajectory. He was a scientist and his work dealt largely with mechanical physics. But these two familiar subjects of physics apply to our lives, perhaps in more ways than we care to admit.

Inertia tells us that an object will continue to move along its current path unless acted upon by an external force. A human-life example of inertia is the person who remains in an unloving relationship without taking proactive steps to make a change for the better. Or a person who has an unfulfilling job but makes no attempt to change the situation. A couple of less obvious examples might be the person who does make an attempt at change, but upon meeting the first obstacle, decides that change is impossible and accepts inertia as inevitable, or the person who selects a change strategy that turns out to be an unsuccessful approach at achieving the desired change, but continues to make the same unsuccessful attempt time after time.

How many of us have fallen under the spell of inertia?

The term trajectory refers to the direction of the new path of an object once a force has been applied to initiate movement. In mechanical physics, we have to compensate for the effect of gravity in order for our object to reach its targeted destination. In life, we have to compensate for other unquantifiable factors, if we hope to succeed in our quest to make progress along a new path. These factors are things like the seductive comforts of our old habits and the voices of fear and shame that play inside our heads.

Creating change in our lives requires some amount of fortitude, perseverance and vision. We need to be able to visualize that the difference we are seeking will prove beneficial and hopefully, increase our level of happiness.

How many of us have stumbled along a new path because we were ill prepared to expend the energy needed to compensate for the unforeseen roadblocks to our visualized success?

I am personally able to check both of these boxes. Time and again I can recall complaining about some circumstance in my life that caused me dissatisfaction, but I made excuses to myself to justify living with the inertia. Or opened the door to a new relationship without acknowledging the need to clean up my behavioral mistakes from the past.

Change is work. It is not as simple as deciding. In physics, there is a formula for computing work, a function of force and distance. In my own life, change has been successful through humility, gratitude, imagination, forgiveness and perseverance over a span of time. The force applied, in this case is not physical at all. A difficult lesson to grasp.

I don’t know if my dad ever thought about physics in these terms, but I am finding comfort in deriving abstract life lessons from the concrete principles he applied in his life’s work.

2010 omen

I read that the lunar calendar calls for a full moon, a blue moon, on New Year’s Eve. A rare convergence. An omen, perhaps? I do love omens presented in the shape of gifts from nature itself.

This blue moon shall be a good omen. May it bring the blessing of humility, faith and gratitude to all who observe its beauty. May it afford us a more profound glimpse into the inner courage, compassion and diligence we have stored within the depths of our being. May it open our minds, hearts and eyes to the realities of our life, that we may live in the present tense, making appropriate choices and telling the truth, with love, to ourselves and to others. May it allow us a balanced view of ourselves, our family, community and world so that we may choose words and deeds for good.

May this blue moon give us resilience in the face of adversity and a stronger sense of connection to the God of our understanding and the fabric of humanity.

As we leave our fingerprints on the lives of others, and on the world in general in 2010, let them be thoughtful, intentional and gentle. May this moon give us the soft light we need to illuminate our path in the coming year.

Twilight 2009

Looking forward to the opening of another year seems to encourage a look back, a reflection on the moments of struggle, growth, accomplishment, sorrow and happiness. Annually charting the milestones, a mental scrapbook of sorts.

In the past year, there were some goodbyes. A colleague died. An animal companion died. I sold a house. I let go of some expectations I had associated with a friendship whose complexion was changing.

I persevered through fear and uncertainty. I faced a few personal conflicts through which I attempted to navigate with honesty and intention. This is not so easy for me because I prefer to hide from conflict. There is still plenty of room for improvement, but I acknowledge my attempts at moving in the right direction.

I explored a new creative outlet this year with this blog and its companion photo blog. And it has enriched my life in ways that I would not have imagined before. In the beginning, I only focused on writing my own thoughts, musings. But soon I began reading others’ blogs and found a world of inspiration. I am ever so thankful for the clever, insightful reflections I now read on a daily basis.

As we approach the final hours in the twilight of this year, it will be satisfying to softly close the back cover. And it will be invigorating to open the new book, full of brightly shining empty pages. Filling the pages with love, with intention, with compassion, with fun, with courage, with inspiration, is the work of my life.

A midnight clear

Yesterday it was a cool, clear evening. A perfect Friday night to go to the movies. We, however, happened to go to the grocery store. But it is conveniently located across the street from a popular multiplex and I noticed throngs of people queued up for ticket sales, confirming my suspicions.

I also noticed a human voice shouting something that I could not quite understand. But then it seemed to be coming from another direction. Oh, there were two men shouting. I thought perhaps there was a protest of some sort going on, and being the curious individual that I am, mentioned it to Cristy. She always knows more about current events than I, so perhaps she knew what the protest was all about. On this occasion, she did not. But being the curious individual that she is, decided just to drive on by and find out first hand.

I didn’t gather that it was a protest, per se. It appeared to be a group of evangelical Christians. They were holding a banner that included a message with the word ‘sinner’ prominently featured. Another one of the men had a digital camera, I suppose for taking photos of passers-by. There weren’t any people stopping to smile, I noticed.

The shouting voice was growing louder as we approached. We drove toward the movie marquis, wondering what film could be causing the protest. Surely there was some movie that initiated this gathering of what appeared to be disapproving Christians. We scanned the list of films, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary Hollywood fare.

So then, what was the fuss about? Why the shouting? As we drove toward the exit, there was another clump of individuals at the sidewalk who seemed to be appealing to movie-goers as they walked by, one man extending his hand in which he appeared to be holding a Bible.

Hmmm, we thought perhaps they were simply encouraging people to reflect on the true spiritual connection with Christ, during this season of Christmas, the celebration of the birth of the son of God. God’s selfless gift to the people of the Earth. But that didn’t make much sense, because they seemed so angry, you know, with all the shouting.

Christianity is full of paradoxes, I guess. If these two groups were attempting to spread the message of connecting with the central meaning of Christmas, the wonder of the birth of Jesus, then why so much anger? I believe the birth of Christ is about pure joy, awe and humility. According to the stories we have all heard, the visitors to that manger who were fortunate enough to witness the miracle, did so thoughtfully, reverently, treading ever so quietly.

I love the trappings of the season. More is more. Glitter, sparkle, twinkle, merry and jingle all the way. But it doesn’t mean that I do not pause to reflect on the birth of Christ, the struggles and faith of Mary and Joseph, the gift to humanity. It is the essence of that divine gift that demonstrates God’s love for us all. No, I have not forgotten.

But why present it to us in such angry tones? Why go on a recruiting mission condemning those you wish to befriend?

Perhaps before going out in public for an organized awareness or recruiting campaign, it might be a good idea to review some of the fundamentals of marketing and sales. Just a thought.

Hypochondria

Most people I have known in my life don’t go to the doctor for every single little thing. You get a cold, you just tough it out. Going to the doctor can be inconvenient and costly and sometimes it becomes a whole exhausting process of lab work and xrays and test results and follow-up appointments and prescriptions.

But about four years ago I got the flu. Influenza. It was awful. I went to the emergency clinic early-early on a Saturday morning because I felt like the pounding headache was going to collapse my brain and I was concerned that my throat might just tear apart if I coughed one more time. They gave me a dose of tamiflu and within 24 hours my symptoms were gone. I was back at work on Monday. That was way better than toughing it out for a week or more.

Then three years ago I had a real emergency involving a blood clot. I wasn’t sure what was happening at the time, but I was experiencing severe pain and knew something was not right. I went to the emergency clinic, again early-early on a Saturday morning. Everything eventually turned out OK, but it was a frightening experience and it impressed upon me the importance of seeking prompt medical attention.

Yesterday after work, I felt so sleepy I decided to rest for a couple of hours. I fell asleep and at some point later awoke to a very sharp, pronounced pain in my lower leg, just above my ankle. Flexing, walking, stretching did not seem to work. Minutes passed. More walking, but still the same sharp pain. It seemed to move, ever so slightly in my lower leg. My mind traveled back to that other emergency related to the blood clot.

I went to find Cristy and told her I thought I might need to go to the emergency room. She started asking what was happening and, just like that, my symptoms started clearing up. She encouraged me to take a couple of Tylenol. By the time I had water glass in hand, the pain was completely gone. What's up with that?

So was it a case of phantom pain? Is this a new-fangled cure for unexplained aches and pains?

Or maybe I am becoming a hypochondriac.

Winter wonderland for a moment

I just glanced out my window and noticed snow. Yes, it’s definitely a form of precipitation that is whiter than rain. Still, it’s all wet and watery on the ground, so the effect is sort of lost. Unless the ground temperature drops. Which could happen, you never know.

Having lived in the south for so much of my adult life, my few encounters with snow stand out in stark relief to all the other days of my life without snow.

There was some snowfall last year one evening. I spoke with my sister-in-law on the phone the following day and she said that T & D were outdoors taking photos, but they didn’t bother to fix the lighted reindeer on the lawn that had fallen over. That is such a classic Christmas card photo opportunity! I couldn’t stop laughing, just thinking about my crazy brother and nephew, taking those nutty snapshots of toppled over reindeer in the snow.

I was in Chicago once many years ago, the day before Thanksgiving and snow began falling in earnest. Big, clumpy flakes. It was beautiful. I could hardly tear myself away from the window to finish my work that day. Sort of like today. My eyes keep straying to the window, just to make sure. Yes, it’s definitely still snow.

Then there was the time when I was working in northern Virginia and 23 inches of snow fell in one night. Mobility screeched to a halt as the state public works forces and private contractors rallied to clear roads. But I soon discovered the problem with snow. You have to live with it until it melts. You can pile it up, but it just doesn’t go anywhere and soon begins looking like ugly, toxic waste alongside the road.

Living with snow for weeks is completely different than the Houston experience of watching the snow fall from the sky, wondering if a fraction of an inch will accumulate on the top of a car. Enough to gather up in your hand and touch, taste, crunch into a ball and throw. That is the joy of snow.

We were meaning to get insurance

The carnival is back in town. I noticed the large trucks unloading collapsed ferris wheels and other whirling twirling equipment at the end of last week in the parking lot of a local shopping center. Today the bright lights are flashing and the dizziness that is the carnival is open for business.

I can’t help but wonder about this business. Obviously it is a traveling amusement park that simply rotates between a half dozen or so local venues. Perhaps it is a larger corporation that manages several, or dozens or even hundreds of these carnival kits.

What kind of employees do they hire? What kind of wages and benefits do they offer? Do they conduct any sort of background investigations on their employees? Does anyone perform a safety inspection and give a green-light approval prior to selling the first ticket on each opening day? Is the carnival insured in the event of an accident? What is their accident track record? How old are the rides and equipment? Does the carnival strictly adhere to a preventive maintenance rigor to keep the equipment in running order?

It would appear that I have a question or two about this business that just shows up, closes down and operates primarily on a cash basis. And I’ll bet I’m not alone. However, I am not a customer. My (hypothetical) children are not riding the whirling twirling carnival rides. But if they were, I would definitely want to know some of these answers.

Just wondering

Sometimes I just start wondering. And once that starts, you never quite know where the path will take you. Consider yourself forewarned.

You know those Spanish restaurants where they serve delicious tapas? I was wondering about that this morning. I thought I had read that tapas originated in cafes many years ago, driven by the need to keep pesky insects out of the patrons’ beverages. So they served beverages with a little saucer to place on top of the glass in between sips.

Is this real or an urban legend? I have no precise memory of where I heard or read this story about the origin of the term.

Anyway, as my recollection tells me, over time, cafés naturally began to serve little bites of food on these handy saucers. Bringing us to the current day where small portions of food are served on little plates in cute Spanish cafes. But no one uses the plates as a cover for their beverage anymore.

Which brings me back to my internal question. If pest control (namely flies) was a problem with drinks served in an open glass, wouldn’t the flies get all in the food too? Why was it considered OK to serve food on these saucers when the saucers were needed to keep flies out of the beer?

Maybe I don’t have the full story. Maybe exterminators arrived on the scene and took care of the problem with flies. Or maybe every table came equipped with a fly swatter.

But flies are just G-R-O-S-S. They are filthy. I do not like them one bit.

I was at a picnic about a year ago at a public park, and the hostess began putting an assortment of snacks, salads, dips and sweets out on the table. I was appalled to observe flies digging in to the feast before any of the humans. We were outdoors and we were unable to keep them away. I couldn’t bear to watch anyone eating after the flies; it just completely unsettled my stomach.

I am not a queasy girl. I can pick up spiders, lizards, frogs or beetles if they get indoors and gently escort them outdoors where they belong. But oh my. Just the thought of someone eating potato salad after a couple of flies have visited makes me very uncomfortable. I need to avert my glance.

Let’s rest for a minute or two on the bench alongside this path and recover, shall we? And then we can resume normal Friday morning activities.

Meandering mind of the commuter III

Today's morning commute was reasonably light, just the typical slow patch a bit north of the 610 loop. As usual, with no distraction from my out-of-commission car audio system, my mind is free to wander. Hundreds of thought fragments float behind my eyes, a tiny thread dangling at the bottom of each. I grab one, follow it for a few moments until it carries my brain to another. Then I release it and follow the next thread. Every so often this stream-of-subconsciousness bubbles up to the surface and calls for my conscious attention.

It happened that way this morning, one of these thought fragments caught my attention and took me to the phrase noblesse oblige. It reminded me of a conversation I had with someone a number of years ago. The content of the conversation was regarding community service and the source of personal motivation to become involved in service. At the time, I had never heard this phrase and did not know the precise meaning. And my stupid pride stood in the way of just asking. Within the context of the conversation, I had a feeling that the definition had something to do with extending oneself in service due more from a sense of socio-economic obligation than desire to extend a helping hand.

So, I looked it up today, all these years later. Seems as though the precise meaning of the phrase needs to be inferred from the tone in which it is spoken. Makes sense. It is an old phrase, originating in an age where hard class distinctions were routinely observed as part of daily life.

And I wonder, now, if it matters. I mean, in terms of that original conversation years ago: is the act of performing community service somehow invalidated if it does not come from a pure place of love, but rather from a sense of obligation? Right now, I’d say no. I think the real question is whether the individual performing the service will realize that his or her time and effort is needed and valued. And consequently, whether that person can then forge a personal link to our innate human tendency to offer help, transforming the motivation into a human connection, rather than a chore or obligation. In other words, is this person likely to integrate community service into their life because it is meaningful?

Hmmm, just a thought for the day from the meandering mind of the commuter.

Describing the intangible III

The sound of faith is the tiniest whisper. You hear it inside the depths of your heart; it is the sound of a loving smile. You intuitively know this smile will accompany you in the darkest grief and rejoice with you in the brilliance of delight. The love that shapes this smile is so infinite that you can feel it expanding through the molecules of your body and radiating through your fingertips, your eyes, your voice as you shake hands, nod in greeting, say hello. It is a source of truth, unity and compassion, a beacon of providence and a divine inspiration. Faith sounds like all of these things wrapped in an enchanting melody of pure light.

Christmas magic

Saturday is a day for running errands; Cristy and I had a long list that mostly involved going to stores to purchase a few needed items and shop for furnishings for our new home. Some retailers have begun rearranging their floorspace to accommodate Christmas decorations, much to my delight! At one particular store, again to my delight, we even took a few minutes to select a handful of tree ornaments.

When I was a young girl, my mom made Christmas magical. She arranged table centerpieces, decorations for the foyer, gathered festive collections of pine cones, played holiday music on the piano, made scrumptious goodies and decorated our tree beautifully. She added the prettiest of touches to wrapped presents and Christmas cards. The house was fragrant with cedar boughs, cinnamon stick bundles and freshly baked cookies. None of our decorations were elaborate or expensive. What mattered most was the excitement and the joy that she shared.

Mommy let me make pretty paper chains to decorate my room and gave me extra pieces of garland for a touch of sparkle. I loved everything sparkly, glittery, twinkling. Every time I walked into my bedroom, I felt a fresh surge of joy. Today I have the same feelings about Christmas decorations. It is the one time of year when more is definitely more: sparkly, glittery, twinkling. I have been accumulating decorations for many years, so there is nothing very uniform in terms of an overall holiday theme. Just pretty. As I open each box of ornaments carefully packed away from the year before, I feel the same excitement from my childhood.

2009 will be my first year to share the holiday with Cristy in our own home. And there is so much of it to decorate. My collection of decorations that last year, in my small house seemed abundant will undoubtedly now appear spare. But over time, the collection will grow to fill the space. Each year we’ll add just a tiny bit more.

I am secretly hoping that I can convince mommy to come visit soon and make a gorgeous centerpiece for the dining room table. It would be the crowning glory of my collection and a perfect way to create the best possible Christmas energy in our home. Better than Santa himself.

Autumnal equinox

Tomorrow marks the autumnal equinox; day and night will be approximately the same length as the earth’s northern hemisphere begins its journey into fall. Autumn ushers in a host of seasonal references: schoolbooks, football games, Halloween costumes, pecans, cable-knit sweaters, raking leaves, cinnamon spice, garden mums, mashed potatoes. Our memories map these associations with incredible precision. Certain smells, colors, sounds remind us of homecoming dances, fall festivals and family holiday gatherings.

The slant of the afternoon sun in autumn reminds me of the smell of a wood burning fireplace, the softness of flannel pajamas, riding my bike home from girl scout meetings and the heaviness of quilts layered on my bed. There are certain foods I like to prepare in autumn and winter that I seldom prepare during the warmer months such as toasted veggie grinder sandwiches, baked ziti and pear-apple sauce. I also look forward to wearing jeans and blazers and enjoying a Friday evening or two near the fireplace with a glass of wine.

Autumn is a time for lighting candles, replacing placemats with tablecloths and reading a favorite novel (again). It is a time for sharing things you have received or learned from someone else – photographs, recipes, making a wreath, folding a napkin, telling a favorite story, making origami cranes. It is a season of cozy and comfort and the more you share, the more you feel.

Silent lightning

At 5:30 this morning I found myself standing outdoors and noticed the flash of lightning in the sky behind a dense blanket of clouds. There was an abundant amount of electric activity and the lightning randomly illuminated the clouds as if they were decorated with twinkle lights. But there was no thunder. The silence somehow made the lightning fascinating, nonthreatening; a discharge of natural electricity a world away.

Once when I was a young girl I awoke late at night during a bizarre electrical storm. There was no rain or thunder, but silent lightning was virtually everywhere. As I stood at my window transfixed at the spectacle of the delicate shards of lightning bursting through the brittle air, my mother came into my room and gently ushered me back to bed.

Phenomena of nature never fail to capture our imagination. No matter how many times I have seen lightning before, it is a renewed wonder. Perhaps, because it is not man-made, our consciousness labels it extraordinary. Lightning cannot be recreated on demand: we must wait for the next natural occurrence. I believe I will never again witness an electrical storm like the one I saw as a youngster, but if I did, I would still be amazed and riveted to the captivating sight.