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This was not the average L.A. summer day. It was just hot, not blistering like the usual hot-yuck-smog day. I rarely walked on this particular path at this particular time. I couldn't even remember why I went home between classes. But it didn't matter. I was there, walking by the tennis courts, my thoughts unusually still.

Thwack! Rattttttttttle. Tennis balls slammed into the draped green fence trailing alongside me.

Thwack! Ratttttttttttle. Tremendous force hurled at me even though I was protected. The UCLA tennis team meant serious business.

The sun was bright, but the shade was comfortable. I looked up to see sunlight sparkle-dappling down on me, but I couldn't feel it as the shade slid over my face, keeping pace with my movement.

Thwack! Rattttttle.

My brain registered the oddity of walking to class from this direction and began sorting out the fastest route. Veer right on through the new parking structure, over the driveway and up the hill. I picked up my pace, falling into rhythm with the tennis team. Was I late? No clue. Just walk. Keep pace.

Thwack!

Tennis rattles faded behind me as I ventured across the drive, angling to slip through the parking garage, pleased with myself for finding a shade route - complete with concrete coolness.

I walked in pace, but my eyes slid to the side, watching the strange way the light sliced across the cars at the edge low-cut wall, revealing and hiding them simultaneously, streaming harshly in search of something hidden in the dark. I was in the dark, and the sun was hunting me. As my foot hit the pavement outside it bathed me, the heat catching in my breath.

Time slowed and some other rhythm took over - like a heartbeat, but not mine. My body drew itself into the light, aiming for the small hill of grass between the driveways and my feet placed themselves deliberately as I took the five steps to the other side.

Step one. The crown of my head is swirling open to suck up the sun, streaming it into my depths, blinding me until only the faith in my feet on their path keeps me upright.

Step two. I am one with the universe, the sunlight reconnecting me to that which gave it birth. I am dizzy. Elated.

Step three. "You are chosen" the words shake into my core and my brain can't register even the incongruity of the moment, lost in the splendor of the light and the moment and the deep resonant connection invading the darkness inside me.

Step four. I am huge, swelling beyond anything my body has ever been, knowing I am big enough for those words, knowing I can do everything, knowing I am anything I ever want to be, knowing I will make a difference, knowing I will matter. Knowing I'm Jesus. And Buddha. And a billion other people who will save the world. Knowing I won't know how - maybe ever. Knowing it doesn't matter what I know. Knowing.

Step five. Exhaling, the light slipping out of me, heart beating. Eyes focusing. Words echoing. Don't lose the words. Keep the words. Don't forget.

My feet keep moving - never breaking stride as they carry me up the hill - toting my mind as it whirls all tilty-like.

I've been touched by God. I don't even believe in God but it touched me anyway. That must mean something, right? Even I couldn't dream up such fantasy, could I? It was real. The light was so bright. I can see the light, still glowing behind my eyes.

Not sure how I got into the hall, but there was Karen, saving my seat in lecture from the 300 other kids who probably wanted it. I flopped along side her, thwacking down the hard wooden seat as I gave in to gravity, resting on my path.

"Where were you?" She asked, shuffling papers on her lap. "Everything ok?" 

"Yeah. Everything's fine. Just had to run get something I forgot."

I got out my paper and pen. Looked straight ahead as the professor came in and began the drone. I never knew what he said. All I knew was the thumping of the heartbeat that was mine. 

Written for writing workshop (Kripalu, April 2011)