Do you believe in miracles?

June 16, 2021

Before I wrote the date in my journal, before I even thought about the date, I was having an insightful morning, although it didn't start well. The alarm went off at 6:30am, waking me with a jump.

I missed Joe immediately. I checked my PayPal account. The money I've been waiting for that was supposed to be deposited yesterday still hadn’t arrived.

I knew I needed to raise my vibration. Went to the Oracle cards with the intention of getting an inspiring message to pass on in the newsletter/blog post I’d be writing later. I got the Double Mission card, reassuring me that I am a light worker, here to serve the world by being me.

Then I downloaded the Work Your Light cards and got similar messages. Be the light. Take care of yourself. You’ve been training for this for ages.

Closed my soul portal and rolled over to contemplate. Thought I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye and turned my head to see a line of light streaks from the window blinds on the corner of my pillow. Joe! Placed my face there and felt warmth. My heart told me we are still working together, even stronger, as now he brings me Divine guidance.

I sat up and reached for my journal. I wrote the date: June 16. Donna’s birthday. Today my dear friend would have been 70.

I thought about the stream of light moments before. Was the light Donna? Doesn’t matter, really. The message is the same: “You are on the right path. You’re not alone. Be patient.”

I asked my Muse for assistance today as I write my post because I had no idea of what it could be. I closed my eyes and waited.

I thought about what came to me in the moment of putting my face in the sunlight:

“Everything is a miracle—or nothing is.”

Even paraphrased, this is a message well known on Earth, attributed to Albert Einstein. What he actually said (or if he even actually said it) is of little importance. It’s the meaning—the concept—that matters.

I’ve always leaned toward the first half of the statement (I’m a “glass half-full” girl, after all). But today I got it on a much deeper level.

The “walk your talk” path is not a beginner’s trail. So often we say we “know” and nod our heads in agreement, but the thoughts stay held in the head—yet to be embodied.

When an idea begins to travel from your head to your heart—it can be a slow walkabout or a dash to the finish line—you feel the truth of it at your core. It becomes part of you. Sometimes it’s a biggie that defines you. Sometimes it’s a gentle reminder there to support who you are or who you are becoming.

Today I “got” it in entirety. Everything is a message. That’s the miracle. Not all messages are of equal weight, but everything matters. Assigning importance and meaning is up to us. The light on my pillow? First I thought it was Joe, then felt it was Donna. Once again, the messenger is less important than the message.

The “Everything is a miracle, or nothing is” message is one of those sayings that we acknowledge as truthful, even profound …especially if it matters to you that someone smart might have said it.

Yet, Truth does not have an author—none of us create it. We transmit it, we channel it, we express it…but none of us has the consciousness necessary to be the author of Truth. We’re all just messengers, light bearers, living our truths and, if inclined, helping others on the path.

So, what is Truth? Is mine different than yours? Is there only one Truth, or many?

I believe, deep inside, we all hold the same Truth. We all receive messages, hints, intuitions, and whispers. Some of us are more willing to accept them at face value and live with the uncertainty of just “knowing,” allowing, and following the nudges. Others fight it, choosing to seek rational “answers” over gut reactions.

Yet we continue to repeat certain sayings or feel drawn to these “higher” messages written in memes, and on posters or signs placed on the walls of our homes and offices.

Follow Your Bliss

When stated or repeated without introspection, this is just another saying that gets our nod in agreement. But how often do we allot time or space for our souls to express what “bliss” might look like?

Maybe you brush this off as nonsense. Or, perhaps you’ve expressed your longings and heard a sarcastic voice in response: “Yeah, that sounds nice,” as if it couldn’t happen. Maybe you felt selfish to even consider moving in the direction of your dreams.

Is achieving bliss another miracle? Or a fallacy?

My sensitivity and intuition have heightened since Joe’s illness and death. I’m more attuned to “signs.” I feel him and others from the other side more often and more acutely. Before, I was aware of my mother and Donna at times, felt their presence, saw them in dreams. Now, I am daily aware of Joe, and often of others in addition to Donna and my mother: my grandfather, brother, and father.

So I don’t feel it is coincidental that I received a significant message today on Donna’s birthday. I believe it is a miracle. How could it not be? Why not follow my bliss and believe it’s what I’m supposed to do?

What prevents us from believing that a greater good is possible? What has happened to human beings that we’ve learned to deny the most essential, satisfying, and meaningful essence of being and instead toss it off as nonsense to be replaced by no-fun, no-pleasure Rules, Regulations, and FACTS.

Seriously, take a moment and think about it. Which world do you want to reside in? Yes, we need structure for society to work, but that’s just the form. By shaping ourselves to fit a rigid pre-designed shape, we seem to have forgotten that we are malleable, able to reshape as needed or desired. We are NOT stuck. We can change, and indeed we must change.

Change is the nature of Life. The indigenous cultures had it right. They followed nature and Earth’s cycles. How did they know to do that? They were still, they observed, and passed on the knowledge to the next generations by being living examples.

We are so removed from our very essence that we deny it exists. We overrule our hunches and gut feelings. On the rare occasions when we do allow ourselves to be led from within we question the veracity, the validity. If things work out, it’s called a miracle. If it’s not, we say that intuition is hogwash and not to be trusted.

But maybe mistakes and misinterpretations happen in both Kronos (chronological) and Kairos (opportune) time. Or maybe we, in human form, are simply prone to error. “To err is human,” it’s been said.

Perfection is not the goal. Living, experiencing, taking that ride down the river in a tube for the fun of it is why we’re here. Connection to others. Living a life of meaning and purpose.

None of those goals are likely to be filled in a corporate office or by earning an hourly wage. Not that earning a living via providing an honest service or product is wrong, it’s not. It’s just the means, a possible road to achieving a higher life purpose.

It’s not hard to spot those on the path to fulfilling a purpose. Look for the light. Who’s smiling, has a bounce in her step, or dances down the street? Who has a kind word and offers encouragement?

You won’t see light in a scowling face. You won’t hear it in harsh words.

You won’t find light in road rage or bigotry or dismissal of opposing ideas.

Sometimes you’ll see pain in someone’s eyes—perhaps personal or for another.

Life isn’t black or white, right or wrong. It’s a variety of hues that range from gray to vibrant color. That is the richness of life’s experience.

The paradox here is that while we’re afraid to step out of the box, we worship those who do, those who take the Hero’s Journey. Those who rebel: rock 'n' roll stars, the lone man in Tiananmen Square, the Parkland teens from Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School who stood up to Congress and demanded gun control legislation after 17 of their friends and teachers were murdered on Valentine’s Day.

It’s a big jump from playing by the rules to standing in front of a tank. Does it take courage or desperation? What prompts parents to put themselves and their children on a raft in the Atlantic Ocean to escape persecution or set out on foot for thousands of miles, hoping to find freedom and a better life?

The seeds of what’s within those who follow their hearts are within every one of us. Sometimes extreme circumstances shake them out. More often (thankfully) the release shows up as a soft whisper or gentle nudge to head in a different direction. We must be ready to receive.

And so, I believe in miracles. I believe in me. I believe in you.

Interesting update to this post: Oddly enough, I’m adding the update before the the article is posted or even edited, but this "breaking news" just in…

The money I was waiting for arrived. It was payment from the online art website where many of Joe’s images are available for purchase. This particular sale was a message unto itself.

It’s a bit of a long, roundabout, story—but one I think worth sharing. This is the story of how this sale came to be.

One night several months ago I got into my sleep clothes and washed up. I wasn’t going to bed, just getting comfy to watch a movie in the living room. Yet when I walked out of the bathroom, I headed into my bedroom closet. I stood there, staring at my clothes, wondering why I felt I should be there. I was already undressed. Something told me to turn around and face the opposite closet wall. There I spotted Joe’s computer, unplugged and being stored on the floor. I got the message to check his email. So I went to my laptop and logged in to his email server, feeling a bit guilty—I hadn’t checked it in a while.

Over the weeks since his passing, I had unsubscribed from most of his publications. It was rare to get something from a friend who didn’t know, but I did check periodically just in case something of importance came in. As I scrolled through mostly junk mail, I saw an email that came in from his website.

A woman wrote that several years ago she had purchased one of his limited edition prints at Crate & Barrel, but it had recently been destroyed in a hurricane in Florida. A replacement was no longer available at Crate & Barrel. Was there somewhere else she could purchase it?

She left a phone number and I called the next day. It was a wrong number. So I emailed her with my phone number. She emailed again and left a different number, also incorrect. I emailed her back with the name of a site and a direct link to the image so she could purchase the print again. I told her to call if she needed help. I gave her the news about Joe’s passing and mentioned how much it meant to me that she so loved the artwork, she wanted to replace it.

We never did speak, but she let me know in a voicemail that she had purchased a new print, this time on canvas. Several weeks later, she sent me an email with a photo of People in Emerald Water, a 40”x40” Polaroid image hanging on her wall. I burst into tears. We had the same image on our bedroom wall for many years.

I checked the site where she had made her purchase, but no sale was recorded in our account. I was about to contact the site when I saw in the fine print that sometimes prints on canvas sales took longer to show up. Finally a record of the sale appeared on April 5. I eagerly awaited payment on May 15, the next month’s payout date.

Nothing was deposited in my account that day, so I checked the website again and read more of the fine print. Payments were made 45 days after the end of the month the sale was made. Sigh. I resigned myself to wait until June 15.

June 15 came and went with no deposit in my account. This time I sent an email around 6pm ET and to my surprise, got an immediate response. They were working on processing the accounts and since they were on Pacific Time, it may not show up for me until the next day. Another loud sigh, but at least it was on the way.

Still not in my account on the morning of June 16. I decided to wait to the end of day before contacting them again. The payment, a sizeable commission, did finally show up midday, which was approximately first thing in the morning for them.

The moral of the story: If I hadn’t followed up the nudge to check Joe’s email, I might have missed her message completely. Or, if I found it later, by then she might have already spent her insurance dollars on something else.

If you are a Baby Boomer and baseball fan, you will remember:

“Ya gotta believe!” —Tug McGraw, NY Mets relief pitcher, 1973, the year The “Miracle” Mets won their second National League Pennant.

It took me an entire day to write this post and another half day to edit and polish the almost 2500 words. Athletes don't have that kind of time, which is why Tug McGraw can sum the whole thing up in three words. Whatever works for you…

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Image: People in Emerald Water ©Gemignani. Prints available here.          

Text © Shelley Lieber