This morning I woke up on the couch with Bonnie on the other end jumping up and down like a five-year-old saying, “It’s food truck day! It’s food truck day!”

So–of course–I got up and got dressed.

There’s a park in Nashville with a full-scale replica of the Parthenon. Random, I know, but it’s been around for over a hundred years. I don’t know if this part is seasonal or not, but they have a small fleet of food trucks at the park on Wednesdays. And really, that was all we had planned today. That was the only reason I got out of bed.

Here’s a picture of me on the way to the food trucks. Bonnie took it and said it belonged on Hot Dudes Reading on Instagram. Food trucks and compliments–now there’s a way to start a day!

Here’s the Parthenon. My dad told me that he saw it when he was younger, which is weird for me to think about. (So I won’t.)

By the time we got to the food trucks, I was so hungry that I didn’t take any pictures, so use your imagination for that part. (I had a grilled cheese with barbecue chicken.) We went for a walk afterwards. Here’s a picture of Bonnie sitting in a tree along the way.

Lest you get all excited and wish that you could have tried it, Bonnie said she was sitting in ants. (Ouch.) Todd said, “Aren’t you glad they weren’t fire ants?” (Double ouch.)

This was just before we left. And yes, it was as beautiful as it looks.

When we got back to the apartment, we all took naps, and when we woke up, Bonnie and I ate apples and peanut butter and had a conversation that started with, “Todd’s playing video games tonight. What do you want to do?” and ended with religion and spirituality.

I saw a post on Pinterest today, a quote by Alexandria Hotmer that said, “If we would just take a moment to look around, we would find that the universe in constant communication with us.” I can’t tell how much I love this idea, the notion that the universe is conscious, alive, and intelligent. The older I get, the more I think and believe that life is particularly interested in each of us, moving small universes in order to get our attention. So I told Bonnie that I was personally always looking for signs.

About seven-thirty this evening, Bonnie said there was a Train concert in town tonight. I said, “Oh, when does it start?”

“Thirty minutes ago.”

Then Bonnie added that there was an unrelated post on her Facebook page that said, “Life’s short. Buy the concert tickets.” Well, how much more of a sign do you need? So we bought the tickets. Even better, we landed some great seats at a great price.

On the way to the show, I kept thinking that I hated missing the opening acts–Natasha Bedingfield and O.A.R. I mean, I’m that guy who will just about pee on himself at a movie theater because he doesn’t want to miss a thing. But what do you do? It was either show up late or not show up at all.

When we got there, O.A.R. was finishing their set, and even after Train started, it took me a while to get settled and get present. I kept thinking about what happened before I got there. But then everyone stood up, and Pat Monahan started singing “Calling All Angels.” Even now, if you put a gun to my head and asked me to list all my favorite songs, that one wouldn’t make the list. But for some reason, when the music started, I closed my eyes as if I were praying. The first verse started, “I need a sign to let me know you’re here.” All I can say is that it felt like the universe itself had moved to get my attention. And when Bonnie put her hand on my shoulder, I started crying.

Honestly, I can’t tell you exactly what it was all about, but I know that I’ve shoved down a lot of crying over the years, so I’m grateful for anything that helps bring up the tears. Plus just this afternoon I was saying that I like to look for signs, and that’s exactly what the first verse was about. The second first started, “I need to know that things are gonna look up,” and if that’s not a prayer, I don’t know what is. So by the time the chorus said, “I won’t give up if you won’t give up,” it really felt like God and the universe were answering.

I guess some people would say that I was talking to myself–that God didn’t have anything to do with it. But when all the stars align to bring you to a place at just the right moment, and in that place there’s hope, and in that moment there’s healing–well–just what do you think God is?

The rest of the concert was beautiful. I cried again during “Bruises,” which is a song that I love but until tonight has never caused me to cry. I guess there’s something powerful about live music, speakers that force you to feel, drums that practically beat your heart for you, and friends that touch your shoulder right when the singer says, “Please don’t change a thing, whatever you do.”

When the concert was over, Bonnie and I walked up and down Broadway, and we both bought lapis rings made by a local artist. (I adore lapis.) When I got my ring, I was still thinking about the concert. Pat sang “Marry Me,” and a couple got engaged on stage. Of course, I don’t have anyone right now, but sometimes I have dreams at night about getting married, which I understand can represent the marriage of the self, the joining together of all your fragmented parts. So tonight I put the ring on my marriage finger because I’m promising myself that I’m going to put myself back together. Even when no one else is here for me, I’ll be here for me.

Here’s a picture of Bonnie’s ring. You’ll have to stop staring at the burgers in order to see it.

My ring pretty much looks the same as Bonnie’s. Since we didn’t take a picture of it, here’s this instead.

Really, I shouldn’t have eaten the whole burger. Or all of the fries. But I did. And since I’m not a quitter, I ate a brownie and ice cream dessert that came in a glass bigger than my head. It wasn’t a pretty scene, but it sure was tasty.

Here’s a picture of Bonnie and me with our awesome waitress, Jenna. Jenna moved to Nashville in February and recently got a tattoo of her girlfriend’s name below her breast, by her lungs because “she’s the air that I breathe.” Stories like this one make me wish that I talked to strangers more often.

After dinner, after midnight, we walked around downtown for over an hour, basically so I could pay for my food transgressions and ask forgiveness for everything I’ve ever thought about people who wear pants with elastic waistbands. As we walked, I thought about how glad I was that I let life take me to the concert tonight, that I didn’t insist on staying home because we couldn’t be there for the whole thing. Clearly, we didn’t need to be. Personally, I’d show up late again just to be there for that one song, just to be in the moment, to let go ever so slightly.

As Bonnie said, “It was like church.”

There’s a story about a young avatar, an enlightened child, to whom the town elders in an effort to trick him said, “We’ll give you an orange if you can tell us where God is.” But the boy knew the truth. He said, “I’ll give you two oranges if you can tell me where God is not.” So more and more, I believe that divinity is all around me, hiding behind a drum’s beat or a song’s lyric sung at just the right moment. And I believe that God is moving small universes to communicate with me and with all of us, answering prayers and sending signs in unplanned moments, the touch of a friend’s hand, and the very air we breathe.