I’m always on the hunt for everyday miracles. And I ain’t even shy about it.
I’m a sucker for witnessing joy, compassion, outward conviction. I’m delighted to catch sight, or earful, of authentic laughter, honest surprise, humble appreciation.
There was a time, though, when I was too cool for miracles, for magic, for faith. Dreams, especially those to be shared, were for sissies. I was too battered to believe. Too torn to trust.
I preferred my glass, my heart, my life, half full, because that was just shallow enough for safe.
On the rare occasions when I’d let myself wish, I’d catch glimpses of an honesty I had never allowed myself to embrace. A sliver of me that knew more, that wanted more, that felt too big for this space.
It was only when all that I clung to fell away in 2007 that I realized the insignificance of the facade I had built. I was no longer fooling anyone, not even myself.
It was about time I got reacquainted.
Without the walls of fear, the layers of doubt, and the suffocation of shame, I was able to see that sliver of light that had been my intuition all along.
There was nothing cool about me and I didn’t care.
I had hope and faith and miracles, instead. I came to know genuine happiness that couldn’t–that wouldn’t–be stripped away.
I chose, and I continue to choose everday, to see the good in the world around me …the moments of miraculous. In turn, I smile often, I laugh with abandon, I suffer great lengths less.
So, never give up on anybody, especially you.
Many of us have subconsciously waved the white flag and we don’t even know it. Yet, if there is that small voice within you begging to be heard, my hope is that one day you’ll stop and listen. Because miracles aren’t just for those brave enough or stupid enough to believe. They are for everyone. You just have to look for them.
I leave you with this: Be bold in following your bliss, be generous leading others to joy. #tyomd (tweetable)