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A few years ago, I was inspired to post a blog every day for two weeks. I was intent on finding something magical to talk about each day as a reflection for me, but also as inspiration for others. I am convinced that these moments of everyday magic can change the course of someone else’s day so I am always on the lookout.
Back then, I wasn’t sure what I would get each day but I had faith that it would all work out.
And for the most part it did. Some days the stories were more poignant than others, but always there was something to share. Even the day I spent in the hospital waiting room for my friend who was having surgery. I was her driver and managed to find little synchronicities throughout that day. You can read about this day and the others here if you are so inclined.
The very best part of this little experiment of mine occurred on the very last day I was to be writing about this process. It was one of those late winter/early spring days that are glorious and unexpectedly warm. These are ones that allow you to take your sweatshirt off on a walk and the sun, in those moments, never felt so good.
It was so nice that I took a long walk that day and I am sure I took off my sweatshirt. When I was maybe a half mile from home, I noticed a hawk flying nearby. Hawks are my favorite birds and often serve as a sign for me. I was gleeful as I watched it soar.
I was so caught up in watching this hawk on this first taste of spring day that I tripped and fell. I rolled my ankle and went arse over tea kettle as my mom used to say. I scraped up my hand and was bleeding in several places. I got up, worried someone may have seen me. That this was my knee jerk reaction is something I needed to unpack later. Regardless, I began to hobble my way back home.
The half mile back home was painful and slow and I am sure I was grumbling to myself about having my head in the clouds yet again. This was an old narrative, “You need to pay attention, watch where you are going!” It was easy to fall into that trap.
As I got closer to my house, maybe two doors down, I was stopped dead in my tracks. On the side of the road, in front of a neighbors house, there lie a magic wand. A real live, just as you imagine it, black wand with a white tip. It was clearly a child’s toy. And yet, on this last day of my two weeks seeking out magic, I was back to gleeful! A magic wand? Here on the street, for me? Really? Even after I just fell hard and limped my way here?
Yes, even after all that, the universe delivered me a magic wand. You can read the original post here if you like.
I was delighted. I kept telling myself I would do this experiment again, or keep it going. Sadly, I did neither of those things. I can only imagine what would have happened if I kept going. I have to believe the magic would have just gotten louder. And yet, I let it go, for what other thing, I do not recall.
Fast forward to 2025. At the end of this summer, I was not ready to recreate the original exercise, but I set an intention to find a miracle everyday. I would not pressure myself to write about it, but if something came up, I would make note and do my best.
This summer was hard for me. It was a very Saturnian summer for me, full of loss and hard lessons, amid some other tough feelings. I was tired and weary and in fairness, I was not energized to write everyday.
This quasi-intention of finding miracles seemed lofty. Some go their whole life without ever reporting the belief in a single miracle. The Catholic Church has a whole series of commissions and a review process to determine whether a miracle is real or not.
I prefer what Albert Einstein had to say about miracles:
“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
I like his take better.
I bought a framed picture for my mom and dad with this quote framed in it when he was sick with cancer. It would be his last summer alive and they spent it at our cottage, which was both of their happy place. He was pretty weak back then. The owner of our beach lent my Dad a golf cart so he could get around. My brother made him a little license plate for it that said “Mayor”. He would get on the golf cart and chase down speeding cars and more or less, keep an eye on things. It was, I am sure, very liberating for him in his cancer ridden body to have this independence in a way he might not otherwise have been able to. My mom used to worry about him when he rode away and so they got walkie talkies. Nothing was going to keep him down.
Miracle? Or no?
I say miracle all day long.
And so I have been thinking about my charge a little more this week.
Here are some micro-miracles for you to consider.
This week, there was a double rainbow that was so brilliant it made my whole kitchen glow. I nearly dropped my cup of tea when I saw it. It had me outside in the rain taking pictures because this one was heaven sent for sure. It was awe inspiring, humbling even, and perhaps the most robust rainbow I have ever seen with my own eyes. If you have read much of my writing, you will know that I am a huge nerd for rainbows. It has long been a sign from my Dad and I know when I see one, that things will be OK.
I have a cousin that routinely sends me her rainbow pictures because she knows how I feel about this. It’s great because she lives out of town, so her weather and mine are not the same. It gives me double the exposure to rainbows and I take all comers, no filtering here!
I sent her my rainbow picture right after I took it. She was delighted as well! It was her Dad’s birthday she said (this is my Dad’s brother.) We both loved the synchronicity.
Within the hour, she sent me her own rainbow. From across the country! Well how do you like that I thought. We both agreed, no coincidences. 🌈
I was at the grocery store recently. I kept running into the same people in the aisles. I did not know these people, but once you almost bump into each other enough times, you start to sort of awkward smile at each other. The ones I ran into the most was a young couple with twins that were toddlers. As a mom of adult twins, I LOVE seeing twins who are little. It is so heart warming and takes me back to some of my favorite moments. These little girls were dressed the same, spunky and full of joy. Their parents were so affectionate towards them it just warmed my heart.
We never spoke more than an oops or excuse me, but it was so touching for me. It made me feel old, but also, it made me feel proud. I have raised amazing kids who are now lovely humans, contributing in their own ways to the world. It was just a nice circle of life moment. I thank the Progressive commercials for helping me keep my mouth shut and not telling them how I also have twins. 😉
I headed to the register then. The man in front of me was chatting up the cashier, talking about his kids and how much food they eat. She laughed and talked about her kids. They eventually got on to talking about their own childhoods and how they were raised, which was starkly different. It was one of those natural human sort of things that happen when people are in neutral spaces like the check out line at the grocery store. No one asked each other about their political views, both were respectful and kind and seemed happy to compare stories from life.
When it was my turn, the cashier started to share with me that she had just relocated to this store. It was so much busier than her last store she said. I commented that was nice that the store gave such flexibility to allow her to change.
She had moved here to this store to be with her elderly dad. She then reported she was not sure how she would manage her life. Her dad is getting older and needs more help. She is getting divorced and looking for her own place to live. I had so much to say, but I elected to just say, “You will get through this.”
I wanted to give her my card, to invite her to read my stories about my own dad. How the universe puts you where you need to be in each moment. How she might look back one day and think what a blessing it was that she was able to help her dad while she is also in transition.
But I didn’t. Those are her lessons to learn, not mine to offer. I let her talk and just offered a kind word and wished her well.
Recently I was at the yoga studio, signing folks in before class started. There were some new people in attendance who were in from out of town. I knew them from another yoga class we had shared together so it was nice to see them again.
As I was registering them, another woman came in the studio. She is a regular at the studio and takes excellent care of the plants. She was upset because one of the older, more mature plants needed to be repotted. She was worried about this plant and it was obvious it had been on her mind.
She looked at it and simply said, “Fuck.”
Then she quickly apologized because she realized she didn’t know these new women. They laughed it off, and one said, “Actually that is my favorite word.”
Everyone laughed then. It was nice.
As luck would have it, one of the new ladies was a plant guru. She knew so much about plants it made my head spin.
She would be happy to help my friend repot this mature plant in the 10 minutes before class started.
And so together, these two people who were just moments before strangers, were together on the floor repotting a plant. A mature, established plant who seemed to demand this level of respect and care.
I just watched, thinking of all the synchronicity happening here. I may have actually been shaking my head in amazement.
Connection over plants and shared passions. It simply warmed my heart.
The plant wizard as I will call her, shared with us that plants saved her life during a previous period of severe depression. She “dug in” and committed herself to plants. She studied and learned and focused on this thing she was passionate about. And this act saved her life as she said. She knew so much. It was beautiful.
I get it, I thought. When we are the most stuck, the life savers come in unusual places, but they always come.
Miracle or no?
I vote miracle. All day long.
None of these are earth shaking stories, but they are stories of connection and synchronicity. They are stories that help us see the golden threads that connect us all behind the scenes. We are all meant to “run into” each other, to find a thing that saves us, that later helps someone else who is having a bad day or a hard time. We are meant to offer each other kind words and well wishes, because all of us will have a turn at the hard time cafe. And so I share these observations to help myself remember our spark, our humanity and our connections. Maybe one of you see this too?
We are all more the same than we are different, I will say it until forever because it is true.
May you find your own micro-miracles today and everyday.
Another related post:
Miracles Happen Everyday
I have a senior dog named Duncan who is more or less the boss of our household. He has canine cognitive disorder which is just a fancy way of saying he has dementia. He is heavily medicated and 85% of the time, he is great and sleeps through the night and isn’t anxious. The rest of the time he is scratching doors and walls in the middle of the night and occasionally paces, pants and tip toes around the house, clearly afraid and unsettled.
Christy, just a BIG thank you for this!
Every day…beautiful. 💕