Does magic exist? Do miracles happen? And what exactly do we call a miracle or magic anyway?
A topic much better schooled scholars and mystics alike have debated through the ages.
From my small corner of the Universe, I can only share my own experiences and what has become my truth, my story.
So here I am in the deep of winter’s darkness pondering these questions. For me, the answer is yes to both questions and magic does exist and miracles do happen in small incredible ways when I least expect it. I had such a magical moment on Christmas Day.
I sat at the little table where I used to put make-up on and do my hair, and a little ladybug dropped into my hand. Where she came from, I could not say but she was crawling all over my fingers and would open her wings and flit to the mirror and back again. My little spotted visitor was very lively, landing on my shirt and in my hair. It was bitterly cold outside and not ladybug season. I knew at once that magic was happening right in the palm of my hand. I have learned that in moments like this I do not try to analyze the hows and whys of things. Just let them be and enjoy them fully.
And I knew with certainty that this little visitor was my mom, having died when I was twelve, coming to show me love and send me Christmas greetings.
I had been thinking of my mom for weeks. Christmas was her favorite season, loving every part of the preparations and celebration. The day after Thanksgiving through the end of the year she was in her happy place. She baked and decorated and shopped for presents. We set up the manger under the tree, placing the animals and shepherds in odd places around the little bit of straw we had out. The tree was decorated with ornaments she had collected over our many travels throughout the world, tagging along with our military dad. I can remember coming in from the cold and being greeting with not just warmth but surrounded by the smell of spices and sugar from the baking she had done that day. So seeing her show up in the form of this sweet little ladybug was not a surprise. It made me smile and brought tears to my eyes.
I believe that the way to have magic in our lives is to be open to it. To keep our hearts openly vigilant to the possibility. That way we allow the Universe to delight us in remarkable ways. Being willing to be open is the miracle. Humans are not wired to accept things that we can not explain. If we get to that place where we are saying ‘yes!’ to the Universe, our worlds begin to embrace mysteries others can not even perceive.
This morning as I was driving to The Common Market in Frederick, Maryland, to write my blog, the moon was huge and bright in the sky at 8 am, still high but reluctantly making her descent into the west. I had to stop and watch her glory. It was amazing to me and a moment of pure magic. What a splendid way to start the day. But I know I would not have even seen her hanging brightly in the morning sky if my heart was not open to it.
Watching the ladybug crawl over me, tickling the fine hairs on my arms, I could do nothing more than be thankful for such a gift.
“Merry Christmas, Mom,” I said as she opened her wings and took off behind the drapes.
Magic and miracles. How have they shown up in your life? I would love to have you share.
With love & magic,