There are a hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground. – Rumi

These words by Rumi ring in surround-sound in my head. After my morning run, images of the summer flashed in rapid succession. This summer encompassed a potpourri of activities: reading books in the bed in the afternoon, watching my daughter jump in the desert-rain on our patio, and witnessing things out of my ordinary, like the twin waterfalls in Maui. There are other images that flash on my summer highlight reel: eating a homemade meal from my mom, listening to Babel live at a Mumford & Sons in concert, and enjoying my morning coffee. Juxtaposed in-between, I experienced a flurry of varying emotions based on ever evolving interactions with those who are connected to me. The path is never linear. Some days the pavement is lined with bouts of sadness, other days there is so much joy that you feel like you are lighting-up like a firefly.

My summer was filled with so many striking moments and I’ve come to one conclusion: If we look close enough, there are a hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground. I admit this philosophy takes practice. Since the path is unexpected and curved, there is much uncertainty that always travels with us. But part of experiencing these adversities is acknowledging that we are alive. Even to struggle is to experience. I often lose sight of this, but looking at my life in a continuum helps me understand that the very place where my foot lands is what I need to accept.

In my childhood, my connection to religion and spirituality was entrenched in ritual. As I grow older, I am realizing that spirituality is in the marrow of our everyday. Every single second that passes, the struggles and the triumphs we experience, are not separate branches, but a part of the same trunk of the tree. There are a hundred ways to look up and down and realize the fabric of every encounter is our opportunity to kneel and say out loud, this is where I am meant to be. Right here and now. Kissing the ground.