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Finding the Face of God

This morning I had a dentist appointment for a cleaning. My initial thoughts when I woke up? Ugh, it is today already? I have this sacred time with myself, while my kids are in school, and I have to spend it in the dentist's chair? Not even something efficient like getting groceries, or organizing the office. Then my thoughts shot around to my brushing habits, and I could feel myself making the ever empty promise, that I would start brushing as well as my soon to be x-husband, who never had an ounce of build up, so, my visits would be as short as his were.

So, after I dropped the girls at school, I made my way to my appointment, doing my best to allow all of the constricted thoughts about how my time was being spent, and at the same time find the appreciation in knowing that I was taking care of my physical body, and that it was just as significant as communing with my spirit.

Little did I know, the beautiful way I would be shown, that the gifts of the spirit are ever contained in the experiences of the flesh. Here I sit with clean teeth, and my spirit overflowing with joy and love. And I remember, what I needed to be reminded of, teachers are in the unlikeliest of at the dentist.

And I give give thanks...

Dear spirit, that flows through all things, who shows us beauty beyond our wildest dreams, if only we open ourselves to receive...

First of all, thank you for the book of silly cartoons, sitting in the waiting room, and for the small moment I had to thumb through and laugh at the drawings and captions; the one entitled, How children really see their parents, with a picture of a mother made up of a laundry basket and the father made up of an ATM. And the picture of the one titled Personal Strainer where the lanky man has one extremely buff arm, and it says. "Maybe we can switch arms now."

Thank you for the little giggles that filled my body, in the waiting room, at the dentist's office.

But, thank you beyond words, for the woman who cleaned my teeth, for the richness of her spirit, her beautiful energy as she held me captive with her stories; for her gentle heart, that painted pictures in the sky for me to watch, that spoke of beauty with every breath. Her teenage daughter learning to drive--how she wanted to follow behind her daughter 35 ft. everywhere she went, especially the day her daughter would drive across two cities to visit her grandmother, just to make sure she was safe, but how she said she had let her go, and had taken that leap of faith and sent her off. She spoke of her love for her mother-in-law, who had always treated her so well, even thought it hadn't worked with her son.

She spoke of her life after her divorce, how much she had learned and how much she had grown into herself. How she had gone back to school, and how it had inspired her daughter, to see her mom in school, often studying the same things. She spoke of her tiny little house that she loved dearly, and how she had broken through so many barriers to do the fixing up herself; finding the energy for how to books, and accepting the loving help of neighbors and friends.

My personal favorite was her renting a truck to pick up bricks for her patio, and how the truck was so heavy they thought the tires would burst, and how the wheels got stuck in the grass when she pulled it into her yard to unload. How all the neighbors came and helped her unload in the rain, and how she had proven the doubters wrong when she had gotten the wheels out of the grass, and the truck back to the station just fine. How funny it all was, and how proud she was of her patio of pavers that took her four months to make.

Through tiny moments without any instruments in my mouth, I was able to tell her that I too was a single mom, and just how much she was inspiring me, how many projects I needed to do around my house, but that the idea of wielding a chain saw to tame my trees was a little intimidating. She told me gently to not let anything hold me back, that there wasn't anything that I couldn't do...

She told me of the love she has for a new man in her life, who at the death of her father, felt inspired to bury something with him, that had been symbolic of his short time knowing the man. This made me cry. Imagine crying in the dentist's chair! She told me how she was supposed to buy some chickens, and didn't know how many to buy, and so had bought three dozen baby chicks, and had brought them home, how he laughed saying, he'd only expected ten to fifteen at the most. She talked about his gentleness with animals, and his gentleness with mankind, but as if to make him real, she spoke of his orneriness, laughing that she could handle that.

My body was buzzing the entire time with the truth of what she was saying, and how despite any of it, this woman was only able to see beauty, laughter, preciousness, and hope. She made ordinary moments of her everyday life feel rich and alive, and mostly joyful. She embraced growth and learning, not limiting it to a classroom.

We laughed at the parts of my teeth that I hadn't gotten as well She gave me advice and joked, saying essentially, that we are are all perfectly there when we are brushing the outsides of our teeth, (the part that gleams when we talk to people), but by the time we get to the insides, we've moved on, and we're done! This made me laugh so hard, because it is so true. I get the toothpaste on, get brushing, and then when I have to move inward, I'm mentally down my hallway, to referee a fight, or make breakfast, or just drop into bed--bedtime, now that's a most illogical time to get a good brushing.

I didn't tell her that I am a spiritual seeker, and that everything she said was my life's work, and my life's passion, for people to see what is so possible, and to see what was right there all along.

As I left, she said. "You and your girls are going to have such a wonderful time. What you are doing for them, will be so wonderful for them."

The people at the front desk looked at me funny, when I thanked the hygienist, and said "Thank you, I had such a wonderful time."

One of the women said. "Did you just say you had a wonderful time at the dentist?"

And I said, "Yes, but it wasn't the cleaning--it's the magical people you have here."

And I walked out of there, my fount was full, my heart was glowing, and my existence, and the existence of all of you, was made more precious. And you are everywhere. Let me always listen to the whisper that reminds me of this, that nudges me to participate in seeing.

To love another person, is to see the face of God. --Victor Hugo


  1. You have written this so beautifully! Seeing the source in everyone, everything, and every moment...what we are truly here for. Thank you

  2. geeeeeze, Brooke.

    How do you do this? How do you describe everything you experience and think about so beautifully?

    You paint these pictures with your words, you weave and sing and dance with your words. So much insight. so much truth. and wisdom.

    You put a big smile on my face with this post. my heart is filled with joy at how clearly you're seeing, how deeply you're feeling. your words are magically touching open hearts here and there and everywhere.

    You rule, sister. seriously.

  3. thank you for sharing your blog with me! What a blessing this place is!

  4. Reading your blog is such a great way to start the day. Thank you for the heart-centered reminder to see the Beloved in everyone and everything.


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