Miracles are everywhere.
How many you experience
on how open you are.
I feel so closed.
I don’t know how to be open.
Can you breathe?
Well then, let’s breathe.
You’ll open naturally
if you breathe.
This is taking too long.
Where are the miracles?
Ah. I see.
Your impatience is what blocks you.
You must trust
with all your heart.
Trust? Why should I trust?
Nothing ever works out in my life.
Ah. Is that true, my friend?
Nothing works out?
Well, I can’t convince you otherwise.
Maybe I can’t help you after all.
Who am I to talk you out of your misery,
when you fight with every fiber of your being
to keep it close to you?
Let’s talk again
when you’re ready to be happy.
You’ll have to die first though.
You’ll have to die
to who you thought you were
so that you can be reborn
to who you might be.
But you must be brave.
Most won’t tolerate such an initiation.
Let me know when you’re ready.
I’ll be here.
These qualities that mean nothing
until something major happens—
death, breakup, loss,
And precisely when we need these qualities,
this is when they seem to desert us.
The one in us who knows we need them,
the one in us who strives to find them,
this is the one we need to trust.
This is the one in which we need to have faith.
This is the one we look to for hope.
May we connect with this one.
For so long
I have seen my sadness as the enemy,
a sign that something
wasn’t working in my life.
And now, with this new perspective,
I’m being told that my sadness is a friend,
a sign that Life
is working through me
to transform me,
to peel away the excess
and reveal the essence of who I am.
I guess all of my prayers
and my hours of meditation
were really me trying to be good enough
to gain some leverage
and negotiate with God.
What if there were no escape?
What if this was all meant to be,
and what if all the answers
to all my questions
were locked up inside me,
waiting for me to accept
the initiation that will open
my consciousness to their
I’ve been searching for something out there,
sometimes catching a whiff of its fragrance
in the wind.
It would render me melancholy
to sense it but experience it
so far away,
when my heart longed for this thing
I could not know.
Sometimes it was a rush of cold air
into my nostrils
as I stepped from my grandmother’s house
into the winter night
and I’d search for the star
in the dark blue sky
that told me the light
was returning soon.
For the longest time
I feared the magic and suppressed it
much to my heart’s dismay.
The whole world seemed cold and dark
and I was trapped in a prison
of my own making.
Spirit came to rattle me out of my cage
and throw me into the light of day.
Such a fool I was,
resisting a project of God’s hand.
How can I stop the ocean from surging?
How can I move the sun in the sky?
How can I make the moon glow brightly?
How can I give the gift of new life?
I only experience these things
because consciousness pours through me.
Who made this consciousness,
the perceiver and the perceived?
My body speaks clearly.
Its language is believed.
I trust the longing in me now.
The magic in me swells alive within.
I open the door to the cold and dark everywhere
and catch its beloved fragrance on the wind.
The to do list hasn’t shrunk,
but somehow I’m feeling less afraid.
If anything, I have more responsibilities,
but somehow I’m feeling more peace.
Am I fooling myself?
I don’t think so.
Maybe it was waking up early,
sitting in the quiet
while the world was still dark.
Maybe it was the run I took
in just above freezing temps…
Maybe I remembered to breathe more.
Maybe I realized I can trust more,
I can have faith,
I can believe in myself
and the ability to pull through
each challenge one by one.
I don’t know exactly how it happened,
but somehow it did,
and right now, I’m smiling.
The plan was to go to the Renaissance Festival—
my sister, my two children and me.
Then my son got sick and was up all night.
I was up too, cleaning the carpet,
cleaning his face, rubbing his back,
getting him drinks, holding the bin, reassuring him
You won’t feel like this forever.
You’re going to be just fine.
My sister took my daughter to the festival and we stayed home.
It’s twelve hours later and mercifully he’s sleeping.
I’m awake hoping for a restful night to come.
But then it strikes me…
What prayer was answered by my receiving
the honor and the privilege
of time to take care of my sweet boy
in the quiet of our home?
What space was created
in the space of my care for him
and my desire to help him feel better?
What experiences will my sister and daughter have
without me there to pretend I’m in control?
What beautiful experience is yet to blossom
in my heart and mind
now that I can be grateful
no matter what?
I keep asking HOW?
How will I shift this situation?
How will I become autonomous?
How will I find a home?
A new way to live
and provide for my living?
Fear wants to creep in.
It’s slimy and quick
and slips into my mind
because that is what it has always done.
But I decide that it’s time for a new way.
I choose to give more attention to my future
than I give to my past.
I don’t need to be afraid anymore;
I can trust in Life;
it always works out
one way or another.