The Beauty of Existence

I sit here, two weeks out from my 33rd birthday, and I am mesmerized by the magic and remarkable beauty of this existence. When I look up at the star-filled night sky as I walk towards my black, 2012 Infiniti, preparing to visit my girlfriend on a Friday night, or whenever I drive back home from a pleasing hour long swim on a Sunday afternoon, and look up into the cloudless, blue sky, brightened by the Sun’s yellowish rays, I just can’t help but feel an enormous sense of gratitude. Life is precious. It is all we have as biological creations.

The last couple of months have reminded me of the randomness, imperfection, and even indifferent cruelty of Mother Nature and our unimaginably vast Universe. Why do horrific things happen to innocent, decent people? It is a question that even the brightest minds, and the most ancient and revered religions, will always fail to answer. I reminisce about my own personal struggles in a distant past. About adversities that have occurred in the lives of people I know well. But also about tragedies experienced by complete strangers. At times, I find myself almost overwhelmed with sorrow and confusion in direct response to this dilemma of human flaw and mortality.

However, in the midst of profound levels of bewilderment and sadness, I come back to my immediate sensual experience. To the smells, sights, sounds, and sense of touch. I connect with the moment. I recognize the intense beauty of what I cannot describe adequately through human language or through conventional forms of communication. I realize that what I am experiencing is a gift that was never meant to be understood or explained. It doesn’t need to be analyzed. It just needs to be acknowledged and appreciated. It needs to be loved and embraced for all it is worth. Something purely extraordinary that should be greeted with a tremendous degree of love and gratitude. Beautifully enough, I have the great fortune of being a part of it.