The squirrel froze mid-leap, its small black eyes meeting mine on the trail. For a heartbeat, we studied each other. Two beings, vastly different, sharing one perfect moment of recognition. Then it darted up the nearest oak, chattering what sounded like laughter into the afternoon sky.

I've stopped counting these encounters.

The mountain biker who smiled as we passed on a narrow trail, his eyes crinkling with genuine warmth. My parents arriving at my doorstep, their love unchanged after decades, flowing as naturally as breathing. My wife's fingers finding mine across the dinner table, her touch carrying everything words cannot.

We search the skies for proof. We demand burning bushes and parted seas. We want divine revelation delivered with cosmic fanfare.

Where is God? we cry. If it’s real, why doesn't it show itself?

But the squirrel already knows. The mountain biker embodies it. My parents radiate it. My wife channels it with every embrace.

The Absolute doesn't hide from us. We hide from it.

Yogi Ramacharaka taught that the divine spirit manifests through countless forms, breathing through every living thing. It’s not a distant deity demanding worship, it’s an intimate presence flowing through everything and everyone. Through kindness between strangers. Through unconditional love between family. Through the simple grace of wild creatures going about their day.

Each one a perfect expression of the same infinite intelligence that animates galaxies and atoms alike.

You search for the extraordinary when the sacred surrounds you. In suffering and in joy. In the majestic and the microscopic. In every face that meets yours with a smile. In every creature that shares this earth.

The Absolute has been showing itself all along. Open your eyes.