Once in a while something magical happens.
This perfect little thing that you can hardly believe.
Majestic. Miracle.
Extraordinary little things that change the way you think of things.
Like the time I was walking across the beach in Placentia and looking across the bay at our family home. I looked down at my feet and there on the grey blue beach rocks was a little wooden cape islander boat like my father used to carve.
Right there at my feet. That boat lies on a shelf in my studio and I still cannot believe it actually happened when I look at it. But it was there at my feet like a gift from my father.
You can call it a coincidence if you like.
I don't.
I think of it for what it is to me. Some kind of magic.
Some collusion of stars and spirits. I can't explain it. I can only feel it.
I can only marvel at it. You have had those experiences I know. We carry them around with us.
Always remembered. Cherished actually.
There was that one moment when you knew that love remains and spirits soar.
That we are all connected in the before and the after, in the beginning and the end. That we are all just little souls colliding.
Whatever you believe, it is important to believe in miracles. Because they happen. My friend the author Harry Thurston once said, he is amazed that we are always walking around denying the marvellous. And it's true we are.
Miracles are as simple as seeds sprouting, butterflies getting their wings, and little wooden boats washing up on shore.
Keep your eyes open but mostly keep your heart open. There is a tiny miracle waiting somewhere for you.
Thank you for letting me write to you. It matters to me and I appreciate you reading.
