I find myself in a familiar place, both physically and mentally, today...
In the physical realm, I'm sitting on my favorite bench basking in a beautiful early fall morning beneath the young maples lining a sidewalk which leads to the Golden Dome - God Quad for those of you familiar with Our Lady's campus. The leaves are now beginning to tease us with the slightest shades of gold and orange. Words cannot do justice. If you have never experienced fall in northern Indiana, you must make a pilgrimage to this holy land I call home. I suggest late September or early October to understand the true beauty of this place - Our Maker blesses us with an embarrassing wealth of sensory pleasures during this time of year. The explosion of color, crunch of leaves under your feet, crisp autumn air upon your skin, the aroma of change; one cannot help but look up to the heavens and thank Him.
In the crazy, confused world of my mind, I am simultaneously kicking myself in the balls and hitting my head against the proverbial, nondescript concrete wall of regret. A breathtaking blonde (a rarity in these parts...she must have been a Saint Mary's student) just strutted past me and all I could muster was a sheepish grin before immersing myself back in the book I'm currently reading ("Proof of Heaven" by Eben Alexander, MD - it's a great book. I highly recommend you read it.) - I couldn't even produce a simple "Hey" to acknowledge her beauty and give her grace the attention it deserved. Sure, this book is a fine read, but it certainly does not warrant my undivided attention when such a transient, life-altering moment presents itself with such a gorgeous girl. Striking up a quick conversation would have potentially (nay, undoubtedly) transformed the trajectory of my life; launching me into a headlong romance which would one day lead to her walking down the aisle into my loving arms, proclaiming "I do" in a dress of white. Unrealistic and, most likely, unhealthy thoughts? Undoubtedly. But so is the way of my misguided (but, albeit, well-intentioned) mind.
Apparently today is not my day. Again. Perhaps I am destined to be forever chained to this printed type on worn paper - this book my one, true lifelong companion? I suppose it is not such a gloomy destiny - at least I would not have to suffer through the inevitable failings of giving myself (physically, mentally, emotionally) wholly to another imperfect being.
But Ted Mosby, the fictional character of undying optimism on the sitcom "How I Met Your Mother," gives me hope that I will not meet such a depressing fate. And so I press on. Tomorrow, hope springs eternal. Carpe diem?
And so on and so forth goes the musings of a single 20-something. C'est la vie...
Unfathomable beauty surrounds us in the physical world, yet I am too foolish and selfish to recognize the gifts of our Creator. Instead I retreat into the recesses of my own self-doubt and self-pity; a prisoner of my imperfect, unconfident mind. God, I hope I can one day break these chains. The sooner the better.