Moving at the Speed of Miracles

Do less. Be more.

In our Uber back from my partner’s doctor’s appointment, our driver asks how long we’ve been together. He tells him that it’s been 7 years, and our driver gleefully brags that him and his wife have been together for more than 40 years. He says she’s been in the hospital since May, that he loves her so much, visits every day, and is grateful to be the kind of person who can take care of his loved one.

I wonder if you just are that kind of person or if you become it. Because, I think I became it, but to be honest, I’m not sure I’m doing a very good job because the only evidence is feeling full of love— and pain. And faith. And concern. And hope.

It is very hard to witness someone you love in immense pain that you can’t do anything about—to want to do everything but instead, be forced to do nothing. It’s very humbling to thank God and beg God in tandem all the time.

By Mona Hatoum

I do everything I can (include be annoying) to be helpful, but he insists that my presence is enough. There’s nothing to do but be there. There’s nothing he needs done besides my sitting next to him.

The entire year conspires to teach me this in different ways all year. This = being present. All there is, is now. My timeline and God’s timeline have proven to be different, yet again. Desires move faster than reality. I’ve learned it’s better to become the type of person equipped for the things you want, because the energy of being is stronger than the energy of wanting.

Trust requires presence and love requires presence, which seems to translate to presence requiring trust in the moment and love of all life. To be the type of person who can care for a loved one is to be a present person.

Sometimes, it includes visualizing the hope of the near future and maintaining the memory of the near past, but often, it requires loving the in-between space of what is current and perhaps un-ideal: to witness, to exist without judgement and fear, and to always expect and move towards the best case scenario.

The universe is teaching me that the best thing I can ever do, is simply be.

Sometimes, it’s the only thing that is enough.

& sometimes (usually) it’s everything.

I’ve learned that love is the way of miracles, and that presence is the way of love. I also know that fear comes in many forms: it borrows from the past in the shape of regret, shame, or overthinking. It borrows from the future in forms of comparison, doubt, projection, and anxiety. Worst of all, it steals from the best of us through overextending (to overcompensate for inadequacy), isolation (as to not repeat past hurts or avoid new ones) and negligence of what’s right in front of us (striving too hard and white-knuckling what you think belongs to you). All of which do a very real disservice to ourselves and to our loved ones by dishonoring the sacredness of our purpose and true essence.

Trying to force things is a reflex of ambition, impatience, and control. It doesn’t mean that the thing we’re trying to force doesn’t belong to us or that we shouldn’t have it, it might simply mean it’s just not ripe. It’s an invitation to cultivate what you have, or to water the thing whose sprouting is imminent, and wait for that thing—that thing you really don’t want to wait for, or think you can’t wait for— to become in season.

There are lessons, memories, and bonds that can only happen in the midst of presence. There are situations where a miracle is better equipped than our own grip. It’s often best to let the miracles move on its own timeline, as the timeline of love is different than the timeline of our to-do list and strategic life plan.

Do less and be more.

Become present, and you become love. Become love, and you become fertile ground for a miracle.