Miracles in the making

Miracles happen in the secret pockets of time. In moments when you least expect them. Because there is no room for expectations in miracle making.

Last evening I attended a party that began and ended with miracles. I met people who were so connected to their true selves. They danced under the starlight with the assurance of those who know everything is going to be alright.

Through the course of the evening I asked myself time and again how they knew with such certainty that miracles are everywhere.

The key lies in trust. Trusting the Universe. Trusting intuition. Trusting the quiet voice within. Trusting that there is no other way to live than being true to yourself.

We ate spare ribs served on wooden platters by people who simply cared. The banana trees bobbed to the beat of the music. Hearts opened. Souls emerged.

When I went searching for the blood moon of the century late July, I couldn’t find it. The full moon illuminated my tiny sky in the heart of the city I love so much just past midnight, having shed itself from the red so many wished to discover.

And then in the heart of last night’s party, I saw it projected against the trees. It was not in the form I had expected, hung luminous in the sky, but rather projected against a screen. And I smiled despite myself, despite my expectations that it should have been the week before.

We often expect people to respond a certain way. But Nature shows us that universal laws have no space for expectations. If we were to live as Nature does, we would see how simply perfect the world is all on its own. It would lead us down a road of acceptance and love and beingness. It would show us that the purpose of life is not to achieve a desired result, but to bask in the glory of simply being here to experience it all.

Yes, miracles happen everywhere. When we least expect them. And often in a form we never thought possible.

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