Small Miracles

Last updated on: April 9, 2010 at 10:18 pm by Star Foster

Small Miracles 2010-04-09T22:18:45-04:00 Star Foster

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We tend to think of miracles as being Big. Huge. Gigantic. Something on the scale of King Kong climbing the Empire State building. Often we tend to discount the small miracles that change our lives in quiet, solid ways.

In Jan of 2004 I was unhappily married, I’d quit my fast-food job and was having trouble with my anti-depressant medication. I’d had a rough few years. My dad had passed on after years of fighting colon cancer. I was at odds with my family. I’d spent some time in a women’s shelter.

Life seemed pretty bleak. I didn’t seem to have any options and no one seemed to be listening to me. In the darkness I decided to take a leap of faith, to give myself room to spread my wings. The one point in my life where I should have been sensible I decided to trust in myself and my Gods.

So I quit my job. Spent a week crying and shivering in bed as I came off the depression meds. Strained the already tense relationship between myself and my husband. Turned to magic, prayer and ritual to attune myself with the energy flowing around me. Something deep inside me sparked almost imperceptibly in the gloom of those days.

There was no revelation, no flash of light. No disembodied voice offering wisdom or money raining from heaven. It was a twisting of my soul, away from one path and towards another. The word witch, and the word wicca, is said to come from wicce, which means “to twist, to bend”. Janet Farrar likens it to twisting straw. I think this is very apt.

If the fabric of the Universe is simply that, fabric, then surely it is my job to weave myself into the Grand Design. To bend and twist and show myself bright against the darkness, to complement all the bright colors around me. The transformation of the soul is the most mysterious and miraculous work you will ever undertake. No initiation, confirmation, baptism or revelation will turn you toward that winding road. It’s genesis is smaller, older and quieter.

The miracle of my life didn’t happen when I found Paganism, although that was a homecoming I will always cherish. It didn’t happen at a ritual or in meditation. It didn’t take place in a beautiful natural environment or among wonderfully witty friends. It happened in a dark friendless place with no comfort and no witness.

I made a quiet decision to embrace the principles of my faith, to embrace my own being “as is” and to strive for the things I truly needed. I gave myself permission to be reasonably selfish. I gave myself permission to be reasonably ambitious. I gave myself permission to be religious. I gave myself permission to be myself.

This small miracle that twisted me from the wrong path to the right one did not make my life instantly better. I began to work for someone who drove me insane with their anal bookkeeping demands, which made me far more competent at my profession than I would have been otherwise. I got divorced and had lovers who taught me more about myself, my attractions, my desires and my faults than I would have realized otherwise. I learned to both reconcile and keep at a distance certain family members, and to wholeheartedly embrace good friendships.

Today I’m very content with my life and excited about my future. I’ve had setbacks and problems but I’ve been able to handle them, for better or worse. Sometimes I catch myself “twisting” back towards the wrong path but I can catch it and correct it. It happens to the best of us. The thread of your life goes wandering from the loom and it’s your job to twist it back and weave it in.

My miracle was small, silent and unremarkable. I simply made a choice at a dark hour, somewhere deep in my soul, to embrace myself and my life. I know it’s a miracle because had it not happened my life would be less. I would be less. Oh, and how grateful I am to be more!

Pagan

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April 9, 2010

Miracles and Magic

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