Have you ever thought of something you never thought of before? Like
discovering a different route to work rather than the congested highway you've
traveled for nine years? Yes, that easy, breezy, trafficless street was always
there, you just never thought of it.
When you follow through with an original--albeit frivolous, silly or fleeting--
thought, it seems to me that it’s more than a mere whim. It certainly isn’t
science, but I call a whim that sticks with you--tugging on your mind like bubble
gum on your shoe, beating in your chest louder than rap music--an epithany.
You got a sudden thought. It won’t leave. You can’t let it go. Even against your
best judgement, curiosity is driving you to dig a little deeper. And deeper. And
still deeper. The desire to explore, to examine, to know more is hypnotic.
Given time restraints, obligations and the life you’ve built for yourself for x-
number of years, if you've ever had an epiphany, you are subject to drop
everything or at least try to work it into your schedule.
I’m 76-years-old. I don’t have time to invest in every whim that comes into my
head. On the other hand, for me, a persistent thought that is out of the ordinary
and invites in-depth examination could be an epiphany just lurking within that
casual thoughtful encounter.
Such was the case one bright and sunny May morning. Even under the dark
cloud of COVID, I was in a great mood. My thoughts were routine. “...Take a
shower. Take ‘Pops’ [my sweet, old Pittie] for his morning walk, and...
“Ah-h-h, the steamy shower was delicious: The smell and feel of botanicals
running down my shoulders, my breasts, stomach and...”
Seriously, before I reached my pubic area, I swear, the epiphany started! I
looked down at my once firm and smooth belly, now almost the size of a deflating
mylar balloon. It was nearly impossible to recall wearing size 6. I kept going,
remembering how beautiful my body had once been.
The beautiful body I’d taken for granted [when I should have posed for a nude
portrait, but didn’t], the body that stuck with me through all these years, through
all the abuse, reckless behavior and trauma, was still with me to serve. What a
blessing!
Suddenly, like being slapped with a bar of soap, I stopped feeling sorry and grew
unexpectedly grateful. While drying off, I thanked God for the body I still have,
gelatin thighs and all.
As I towel-dried, my thirsty legs glistened with silky lotion and I said aloud, talking
to myself, “You go Girl, you can still show some leg! You’ve got a lot of nerve if
you don’t embrace every little litt-bitty part of yourself with open arms.”
It didn’t take much to suggest I was in the throes of an epiphany. When I read
1 Corinthians 12: 4-26, I was convinced.
Today I am in the process of publishing an A to Z compilation of nearly one
thousand animal metaphors, idioms and other figures of speech, Our
Animalpedia of Figurative Language. So why not a companion reference book:
The celebration of God's most miraculous gift, our bodies? The result, with over
1,000 familiar sayings, [from A to Z], Our Idiomatic Body Parts, is my homage to
this wonderful, serendipitous thought that I never thought before.