Yes, it is...may I share my experience?  Okay, here it goes...
In quiet still moments it shines in it's resting place.  Needing only exisistence.

In the cracks, bends, curves, pockets and creases of life.  It pulsates for pure enjoyment of steady being-ness.

Swirling in silent steps towards more breath, yearning for only one thing...life.  Did you feel it today?

Thank you Thursday for the lovely dance in the noticing & in the remembering once again.
 
 
Her name was Celeste. A name I wouldn’t mind having. I mean, I just love the word ‘celestial’. It’s such a magical name. Her auburn hair was pinned back and tucked under her uniform hat with a few wavy strands falling off to the side of her face. She had sparkly eyes and fair skin. A cheery personality with a delightful tone in her voice. She was a spirit lifter. A great fairy godmother. She exuded a loving mama presence. A total Earth Angel.

She worked as a barista in a local café I often visit, although I could easily see her in a summer straw hat working in her flowering garden and adjusting garden gnomes and angel statues in full bliss. I could see her smiling in content as she watched the butterflies steady themselves on her vibrant colored perennials. Every so often she may gaze at the swaying trees in her yard and image a nice wicker chair or two for her next garden décor purchase which she will have to save up for. She might be digging in the earth and humming a song she learned from her grandmother who sang the same song in the kitchen while cooking. She just seemed like that type.

And, today, I went to visit her at the café. An interaction I look forward to. She greeted me with a smile and bubbly voice that seemed very familiar…as if I was her daughter. She treated everyone like this. Welcoming them in with love and joy. I softly put my order in and she quickly began crafting my coffee behind the counter. She had a timing to this and new the exact moment to let the coffee sit and make her way to the register to collect my payment. She shyly read me the total and apologized that she had to charge me extra for choosing soy instead of regular milk. I assured her it was totally fine. She was relieved and returned to her smile. The sound of the register door slamming signaled me to walk over to the end of the counter where my drink was gently waiting. She met me there and handed it over to me and the words that slow danced out of her mouth were, “Here, I give you my heart.”

I thanked her with a deepness that I knew she could feel and then I walked out the door, and to my car. Got inside and placed my coffee in the holder. Put my key in the ignition and paused to shed a few tears. The happy kind of miracle tears. The ones that remind you that life is good and there are angels everywhere helping, supporting and guiding you. It was in this moment that I felt the touch of an angel. I drove home and drank my coffee in peace, tranquility, and great awareness of the love in each ounce.

“When you ask for miracles, you get folks.”
—Christopher Galtenberg

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Yes, I'm into huggin trees and walking upon sacred ground in heartful union.
 
 
As a child, I disliked knowing certain things, sensing, seeing and feeling more than I could understand. I tell my story here…

But…

Only for understanding and also for my own growth & healing.

I’d rather not use any labels in my life now, but I will here as I sort and sift.

I see and sense…”things”.

Yep. No lie.

Mostly energies. Then, I take it as an opportunity to translate it into Earthly language, which can be difficult at times. People like to test, you see. They need proof. Evidence. Then they take that and compare it to others whom are considered ‘sensitive’ to again try and prove.

But, what I know now is that they are proving what they want to hear out of fear, lack or limit.

It’s okay. I understand. Really, I do. I did the same thing to…myself.

So much so that I was ruled by disbelief and became skeptic and analytical. I was harsh to myself, never allowing myself to feel the way I was meant to and experience life the way I was meant to.

It’s sometimes disheartening to notice an energetic pattern in someone and not be able to say anything without sounding like a rude ass or a judgmental shrewd. Oh yeah, and not to mention…'crazy’.

These things don’t discount me. Oh no. Not at all. They make it all the harder, for then I am harder on myself. I tell myself, “you should know this!” or “didn’t you see this coming?!”

We all do this. I am special, but not in a way that you are not. You do this too. We are all constantly translating energy. Some have a grasp on it and understand it; they remembered how to use it. Some come knowing. Some come forgetting. Some remember along the way. Some use it differently. Some deny. Some are afraid and take drugs to cope. Some are labeled Autistic or bipolar. We’re all psychic on some level.

Yes, I see and feel energies.

Sometimes they look like they could have been people and other times they feel like colors.

I decide to give them names, like angels, or nature spirits. At one time, they’d frighten me, waking me up in the middle of the night. I’ve evolved though. I’ve learned ways of understanding, and new skills to work with this and honor it ad embrace it and help others…who would of thought?!

There is goodness in this too. Magic and extreme image-ing- not necessarily ‘imagination’ but image-ing…seeing images. Noticing patterns, feeling the tears of that mother who cries out of frustration, seeing the smiling child’s beautiful rays of light and the twinkling lights that follow the fluffy grey cat.

I see the same sky as you, yet I might see it as a different color. What is blue anyway? You tell me the sky is blue, but can you describe ‘blue’ to me?

Yes, I can read, notice, feel, and see these things I like to call ‘energies’ and I truly am thankful that I get to experience this life in this way.

"I'm sensitive, and I'd like to stay that way.” Jewel
 
 
Love abounds where self-care is nurtured. Tending my self-love garden is great and deep work.

Sometimes, I clear space by weeding.

Sometimes, I add nutrients to keep the soil well.

Sometimes, I allow the rain to do my watering during drought-full times.

Sometimes, things die and new things begin to bloom.

I travel along through the seasons, allowing myself to yield when needed and expand when strong.

And, within this realm of unconditional self-love there lives a Soul Sustenance that continually nurtures.

I am thriving, flourishing and allowing.


Where there is great love there are always miracles
~Willa Cather

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and share your miracles!
You can also post a miracle in the comment section below.

 
 
This moment.
A morning moment.
Whispy clouds gathered to embrace me...
And as I spread my arms wide to receive -- I felt blessed,
with the vibrant and gentle experience of pure awareness
of
this
beautiful
&
full
moment.