Summary

The text describes a person's experience of having an epiphany while walking up the stairs, which is then temporarily forgotten and later sought after with hope that it will return and provide clarity.

Abstract

The narrative captures the fleeting nature of epiphanies through the story of an individual who experiences a profound insight while carrying groceries up the stairs. This moment of clarity is lost as the person becomes preoccupied with mundane tasks like unlocking the apartment door and putting away groceries. Despite attempts to recall the epiphany, it eludes them throughout the evening. The text suggests that such epiphanies, though transient, are valuable and can be requested from the Universe, with the possibility of them returning to connect the dots and guide one's direction. The author encourages readers to seek at least one epiphany a day and to remain open to these moments of insight, which can occur at any time or place.

Opinions

Epiphanies are depicted as sudden, transformative insights that provide a new perspective on one's thoughts and surroundings.
The author implies that the busyness of daily life can distract from and diminish the impact of profound realizations.
There is a belief that the Universe is responsive to requests for epiphanies and can grant them in its own time.
The text conveys a sense of frustration and loss over the inability to recapture an epiphany once it has passed.
The author suggests that epiphanies can lead to a deeper understanding of one's life and can be a regular occurrence if one remains receptive.
The narrative emphasizes the importance of being present and mindful, as houseplants are mentioned as a way to connect with the present moment.

Epiphany Lost

Will it come back?

You are just walking up the freaking stairs. It takes between forty seconds and a minute, depending on mood and how many groceries I am carrying. Mind you, I have never timed it. I’m just guessing.

But when an epiphany smacks you across the face as you ascend those stairs you subtly switch into an entirely new thought pattern, in fact, it is more like dropping all thought patterns. You are suddenly in a null space completely divorced from your daily thought patterns. A hole opens up. You can suddenly see everything from a totally new perspective. You find yourself sinking into whatever you are looking at, yet instead of seeing it, you see BEYOND it. You flow through it.

Suddenly, you see a spider’s web of unseen connections. You suddenly see subtle connections between all the other shit that you’ve been thinking about. Everything, for a brief moment, makes sense. Don’t you just love epiphanies?

Then you get to your apartment door and you fumble with your keys. The task of unlocking the door is made difficult by those six bags of groceries you’re carrying. You unlock the door, enter your apartment then lock the door behind you. That’s just what you do.

After dropping all the groceries on the floor in front of the refrigerator the first thing you do is take off your shoes and socks. That’s just what you do.

With flip-flops on, you return to the grocery bags on the floor in your kitchen. You start putting shit away. Then, as you are about to forcefully cram a loaf of Ezekiel bread into your freezer you suddenly remember that you had a major epiphany coming up the stairs.

You close the freezer and you only give a cursory glance at all the groceries remaining on the floor. You are stopped in your tracks. Wait a minute? Didn’t you just have a major epiphany just a couple of minutes earlier while walking up the stairs?

You stop all movement. You look at the jade plant in the kitchen window. That’s just what you do. Houseplants are notorious for providing windows into the NOW.

But what about that epiphany that shook your world just a minute and a half ago? You look away from the jade plant. You stare straight ahead and everything straight ahead turns simply into what it is. And then it dissolves. It turns into a blank screen. You stare at the screen hoping that your epiphany shows itself again.

But nothing shows up. So you put the rest of the groceries away. And the epiphany on the stairway seems to fade away, flowing into the past.

For the rest of the evening you just can’t get that epiphany back. It seemed to slip right through the greased-fingers of your awareness. You remember the feelings (as opposed to emotions), and you call forth that specific vibration.

But it just doesn’t come back. For the rest of the evening you do ‘mindless’ things in order to keep your noggin in an open, receptive position to bring back the epiphany but it seems utterly lost. You can’t remember a damn thing about that glorious epiphany you had earlier in the evening.

It is gone.

Don’t you just hate that?

But after you turn off all the lights and prepare to dive into your bed and head off to Dreamland you remember your stairway epiphany. That is, you remember having it but you still don’t remember what is was. So you close your eyes and ask the Universe to show you that epiphany just one more time. You promise that you will remember it. You halfway agree to write about it.

Will the epiphany be there in the morning? Will it suddenly make sense? Will it connect all the dots? Will it point to the direction you must take?

Epiphanies come and go — often in a flash. If you miss one it is perfectly okay to ask for the epiphany to reveal itself again. The Universe will gladly oblige.

And while you are at it, ask the Universe to provide you with at least one epiphany a day. It doesn’t have to be in an empty stairwell. It can be anywhere. Anytime. At least one a day!

Seriously, if you ever need an epiphany from the Universe all you have to do is ask for one. In the Universe’s own time it will come.

Then all you have to do is remember it.

A Painter’s Forest

And how the painter’s life changed

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