Paul Cézanne: Jules Peyron (c. 1885-1887)

"There will always be the before and then the ever after …"

I am an Epiphany junkie. The urge to experience Epiphany drives me. It's what gets me up in the morning. I am always, always looking for the anomaly, the odd ant/elephant combination that might harbor an insight, for I believe Epiphany to be accessible to everybody all the time. Certain religious holidays advertise themselves as Epiphany-related, but I firmly believe that everyone retains access to the transcendent, to the glorious. It's not reserved for Sundays or Feasts of Grand Retribution but remains an everyday thing, extraordinary yet perfectly ordinary, remarkable yet common.

Remarkable Yet Common might as well serve as my tagline, for I have no personal use for the exclusive. Gated communities make absolutely no sense to me. One of the things I love most about our little valley was that there were few isolating neighborhoods, and the various social classes had not sequestered themselves from each other. The dishwasher might live on the same block as the lawyer. An infill midcentury ranch might sit next door to a genuine mansion without more than the usual neighborly tension. This made the place at least seem more egalitarian than a typical city of its size. With immigrants relocating from other places, a few gated communities now ring the town. These neighborhoods seem situated far down the attractiveness scale, for their homes present uniform faces, rendering them indistinguishable. They could have been constructed from oatmeal.

Variety seems to be one key to stumbling upon or into Epiphany. A narrow palate prefaces narrow experience and narrow experience provides fewer opportunities to happen upon the unusually inspiring. Granted, there have been those who chose to eat the same thing every meal yet still managed to find enlightenment, but I imagine those choosing to explore more broadly, finding more opportunities. As an Epiphany junkie, I'm always interested in finding more. How many? One's not too few, and ten thousand is not too many. Just keep 'em coming, for the prospect of not finding another seems as though it would be the most demotivating possible scenario. I mean, why even get up out of bed in the morning if there's no prospect of never being able to return to that same spot that evening?

Epiphany changes trajectories. It's the part omitted from the grand plan that reliably transforms what was planned into what actually happened. I do not always experience this intrusion as a positive encounter, yet it seems to be the spice of my life. Sometimes, a tad too spicy for my palate, but often surprising and ultimately refreshing. The best-laid plans can always be laid low by Epiphany's utterly unplannable intrusion. When the old routine wears thin, it provides the retread. When the prospects seem awfully grim, it can bring the missing levity into play. Every day, any day, might end up warmly remembered as a holiday and forever after that celebrated, and for me, the day I met The Muse created a celebrateable holiday. Not a year goes by but what we take at least a moment to remember and reflect on that time when our trajectories shifted forever for the better. There will always be the before and then the ever after, with that moment of Epiphany square in the middle.

©2023 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #iAlogue , #PureSchmaltz