the big room

Something is happening. I walked to the grocery store yesterday and it was very sunny, no clouds, but the light was different. It was bluer and also had more of an iridescence to it. And instead of all things expressing their own light, the way a red car seems to be responsible for its own red, it instead felt like I was in a giant room, a room so big that you can hardly fathom it, but still very much an enclosed room. It was an impossibly large room with space for everything, and it had one source of light. The objects around me, the street pavement, the cars, the seagulls, the houses on the hills, the hills themselves, all had the quality of things in a room with a single source of light and that this source was responsible for the colors, painting all the colors, not the objects themselves. 

The source was above my head and to the left, but facing in that directions was hardly bearable. The light, bluer and more iridescent, was too powerful. The brightest thing, which made its presence in the giant room so utterly dominant and its effects so utterly ubiquitous, became all that I could think about. And even though I couldn't look at it or hear it, or smell it, or directly apprehend it in any way, it suffused me. This thrilled me. It was not simply miraculous, it was a real and immediate, ongoing miracle and I was part of it. And it's still happening