Return to the Miracle

A little while ago, November 18 to be precise, I wrote in this blog about the recent miracles in my life and I failed to mention the one occurrence that really set me thinking about this. It was not a large miracle, but it was a very unlikely happening. I realize that al possible events can happen, however strong the odds against them are,  but it's still remarkable.

My dancing friend Meaghan from Canada has developed a beautiful morning practice of a sequence of meditative dances. At multi-day dance gatherings she dances them early in the morning and those of us who wish to, join in. The music is beautiful and the movements flowing. We dance wordlessly for 45 minutes, blessing the opening of the day with this deep practice. As we stand together around the candle after the final dance, the last track of the sequence plays. It's a blessing written and read by the Irish poet and philosopher John O'Donohue.

I've danced those dances with Meaghan and heard that blessing many times. But in November 2014, after I came home from the gathering at Neskaya, I looked up some information about John O'Donohue and found that his first published book was Anam Cara, A book of Celtic Wisdom.

I made a mental note to find a copy of that book, perhaps at the local library. Then I cleared some junk out of the basement and headed for the town's repurposing center, en route for the library.

I deposited my recycling, dumped some construction debris, and carefully placed my old boom box on a pile of other defunct appliances that an employee assured me tend to breed and multiply overnight.

Mission accomplished, I headed for the "free" shack to see what I could score, and browsed a few broken lawn chairs and some mis-matched cutlery.

A man came in with a heavy box and began to unload books onto the shelves. I watched, and drew closer as the tiles began to pull me in, seeming to be connected as they were with spirituality and natural wisdom.

 "Those look interesting," I remarked. The man smiled and, half turning toward me, said over his shoulder: "Help yourself".  As he emptied the box and moved aside  I reached out for the nearest book,  a small paperback with a golden cover . . .

. . .   and found my hand  closing over a copy of Anam Cara by John O'Donohue.

John O'Donohue and friend

I don't know what the odds of that happening are. Do I have to take into consideration that any book in the world might find its way to a municipal waste processing center in Burlington, Vermont, USA on the precise day that I stopped by?

I don't know, but it seems like a little miracle to me! So I'm reading the book very carefully.

The Blessing for Beauty begins like this:

"May the beauty of your life become more visible to you, that you may glimpse your wild divinity."


http://www.johnodonohue.com/