Once, in second grade, a friend and I were horsing around on a set of parallel bars in the school yard. I did one of those maneuvers where you pull yourself up so the bar is resting bellow your belly and then you tilt forward and spin fast.
When my feet smacked the dirt and I was dangling right side up again, the entire world seemed like a new and different place. The school building was far away and not altogether real. I was me, but I was also not me. I was an altered me. I could see everything from a great distance but I was not afraid as I believe I would have been if it had been the usual me. I was both smaller and bigger than I understood and these were the facts.
This strange perspective passed quickly, everything sort of settled back into its proper proportion, but I never forgot the sensation. I’ve reflected on it hundreds of times and have come to think of it as a fleeting whisper of God.
~ Corinna Nicolaou
Question Worth Pondering: How many small moments in each of our pasts hint at the great expansiveness?