Day-100 Gratitude series
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I am a miracle!
Woooo…..I reached my 100th article. What an amazing, transformational journey.
I wished to write about something special for my 100th article and I searched for two days. Nothing seemed grand enough, unique enough, or right enough.
And while browsing through my garden, I spied these two beauties gently wooing their plants, and realized that why do we go hunting for something special and wonderful when miracles are so near us? Practically everywhere, waiting to be discovered.
I am grateful that I saw these and realized the miracle that they are.
Their transformation from a creepy, crawly caterpillar to a vibrantly-hued butterfly with ready-to-fly attached wings!
Is it not an event beyond the ordinary that stretches our imagination?
That someone who struggles to move on the floor can develop wings?
What other evidence of miracles are we looking for?
Today, I keep it simple.
I am grateful for all the miracles in my life.
I am grateful to have the ability to recognize them for what they are.
I am grateful that I enjoy being grateful. It’s fun.
I urge you all to look for your miracles. Waiting to be discovered. Under every stone and over each leaf.
It could be in the smell of your mom’s hot-bread-Rotis or in the smell of her hair.
Or the caress of your father’s hand on your forehead or the fat rakhi envelope from your brother.
It could be in the scold of your daughter, or the wry grin she gives you, or when your eldest rolls up her eyes in exasperation.
It could be the call you were anticipating, your lover visiting you in your dream, or your maid wading through waters to reach to you.
It could even be in the covert squabble of your insecure sis-in-law, who is jealous of you.
They are all events of life and they always bring miracles with them as a result.
Why wait. Waiting is exhaustive.
Receiving Joys-of-the-moment is the trick to the magic and miracle of life.
Wish you all a fantastic, miraculous day ahead.
Full of promise. Of life itself.
The sun rises, the moon is moody with its waxes and wanes, and the stars merrily twinkle without a care.
This particular poem by Walt Whitman resonated with what I feel perfectly.
Miracles by Walt Whitman
“Why! Who makes much of a miracle?
As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets
Or dart my sight toward the sky
Or wade with naked feet along the beach, just in the edge of the water,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with anyone I love
Or sleep in the bed at night with anyone I love,
Or sit at table at dinner with my mother, or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon, or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds, or the wonderfulness of the sun-down, or of stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of a new moon
When I see my own eyes and figure in the looking-glass
These, with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles
To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same,
All these to me are unspeakably perfect miracles.
To me, the sea is a continual miracle
The fishes that swim, the rocks, the motion of the waves, the ships
What stranger miracles are there?”
Life is indeed beautiful and so are we.
Life is ours and Bliss is within
Light & Love,
©Dr Naznin
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