God Light

I am in the middle of renovations.  This old house needed a new roof.  So I have been living inside the head of a giant who is under going extensive dental work for about a week now.

I am also removing a couple of walls and adding some sliding barn-like doors to open one space and define another as my studio.  Oh, AND I am getting a bathtub after living without one for 10 years now.  Bathing is more than a hobby to me.  I take lounging in hot water seriously.  I am getting a 5 1/2 ft cast iron claw foot (please say a novena for the guys hauling it up my narrow farm-house stairs) and I am totally stoked about it.

It is remarkable to experience change happening after imagining and wanting it for so long.  It is noisy and dusty and inconvenient, sure, but kinda wonderful at the same time.  Transformation is powerful.  There is something literally awesome about it.

Yesterday a solar tube was installed over the spot where my claw foot tub will go.  I was out of the house for dinner at some friends when the guys finished for the day, and it was dark when I got home.   Brushing my teeth,  I noticed the round face of the solar tube installed in my sloping ceiling, thought, oh, cool, and trundled off to bed.

This morning I toddle into the hallway half asleep and head for the john, when it hits me like a major chord:  The Light of God.

You know how in old paintings-- and sometimes in real life-- you see this bright beam breaking through the clouds and this kind of spotlight of Heaven beams down?  It was like that, only in my bathroom. A brilliant white beam of light was bursting forth from the alcove where my shower currently sits.   It was like God was taking a shower in my bathroom.

I can't wait to -- quite literally-- bathe in the light of God.  Totally awesome.

PS:  As some of you might note, last year on this date I was rushed into surgery to cut a "window" in my heart (well, my pericardium, to be exact, the sac around my heart).  This was how metastatic breast cancer made itself known to me.  It is not lost on me that today, one year later, I am writing about the the Light of God pouring through a hole cut in my roof. And about the power of transformation. This world is mysterious and beautiful, my friends.  And it has a wicked sense of humor.