Do you notice the Magic of God moments when they are happening? Or perhaps you have a measurement of how big something has to be before it qualifies as the Magic of God?
I used to feel that to call something the Magic of God, meant that it had to be BIG – like one of those stories you read about in the newspaper where a stranger finds superhuman strength and lifts a car off of an injured person following an accident.
The death of a loved one is always a marker. It marks the passage of time. It often marks the end of an era, usually a change in outer circumstances, and often a less obvious but powerful change in our inner landscape, especially if the death is one of our parents. It doesn’t matter how old they were or how old we are, when our parent passes on it gives us pause to reflect on our life, our relationship with them and how that relationship has affected us.
Time is a man-made convenience. Knowing the time, being on time, and having time gives us the illusion of being in control of the uncontrollable universe.
My main issue with time is that there is never enough of it – but that’s just me!
Recently I made an international trip, flying east from Australia. So I left Brisbane at 10am on Saturday and arrived in Los Angeles at 6am on that same Saturday so in effect, I arrived before I left. I really like flying east because it allows me to live the same day over again (and gives me the illusion of having more time!)
Like many of you, my days are full from early morning until night. There always seems to be more things on the To Do List than there are hours in the day. Since I can remember, I would always arrive 5 or 10 minutes early for appointments, lunches, and meetings with friends. Now I arrive just in the nick of time, right on the dot, with never a minute to spare. Time is a scarce commodity when you live by the clock. (I am trying to break free of this imprisonment by the way – a subject for my next blog perhaps!)
I’m getting ready to go overseas for an extended stay. In the lead up to my departure, I planned to attend a week-long ‘retreat’ - which might seem like the worst time to start a new jigsaw puzzle. I even went out and bought a brand new one so I would have no idea how the pieces were going to fit together.
A few months after moving into my new home, there was a change of seasons. It has been in my rhythm for many years to clean up the garden with the start of each new season. I had not yet done much gardening in my new place, partly because I hadn’t had the time and partly because it is well planted and sort of maintains itself so I was looking forward to getting out in nature and getting my hands dirty. Summer was over and things needed pruning and prepped for winter.
In my January blog, Upsizing, I made reference to the fact that I just ‘knew’ it was time to move, even though at first glance, I didn’t think that I particularly wanted to move. I liked my house, I liked the neighbourhood, the town, the shire, I had the house fixed up with all the conveniences that made life flow easily. YET, I couldn’t ignore the fact that I had this feeling that it was time to move.
I have learned in recent years to recognize this feeling and to act on it. Some people might call it an inner guidance. Some might call it guidance from above. Other’s say it is a ‘gut feeling’ but it doesn’t come from the gut at all. It comes to me as a warm all encompassing knowing.
Gayle Cue loves writing about life, reflecting on every day miracles and pondering on the big picture.
Subscribe to receive latest blogs and updates.