To Love We Must Swerve Often From Our Path

My Luvee riding in fall sunshine

Perhaps it's the season of fall and brilliant colors, but I've noticed of late that Life (intentionally capitalized) constantly interacts with me. When I pay attention and actively participate, miracles happen. Enough foo-foo-woo-woo, let me give you a few examples.

You all might remember the Veteran's Day event I had scheduled last Sunday at my office. I wracked my brain on how to increase my exposure to vets and decided to hold an open house. People in the field warned me that veterans don't tend to go to such events, but I felt compelled to do it. A few days before my event, a veteran called from the local hospital. This person was incapacitated and unable to make it on Sunday, but was wondering if I could come to the hospital for a visit. I smiled, having the distinct feeling that Life was placing a great opportunity in my path, requiring a slight detour from "my plan"--no problem, I set up an appointment immediately following my open house. The following evening, I received an email from a father of a vet who committed suicide after coming home from Afghanistan. He commended my efforts and said, if one vet is served, it'll be worth it. He then proceeded to share that he was in the military over twenty years and in addition he had built the building that housed my office. In a small town of 23,000 is this just interesting coincidence? I don't think so--Life is interacting, not just with me but with this devoted father.

Well, Sunday rolled around and unfortunately (or not:), no one attended my open house. However, I left the office and headed to the hospital. Here I found a willing veteran who applied the Meridian Treatment with great success, bringing the distress experienced from a SUD (Subjective Units of Distress) 6 to a 0 in less than five minutes. When I arrived home that night, I looked up into the star-filled sky and heard again the words of the man who had lost his son to suicide--if one vet is served, it'll be worth it. I breathed deep the crisp fall air and committed to take off my blinders and stray more often from my determined path.