You walk past burning bushes every day without even knowing it.
I don’t mean actual burning bushes, silly. And I’m not talking about red heads with pubic hair, either.
I’m talking about metaphorical burning bushes; miraculous things/people/experiences that come into your life to teach you something. You know, like the Moses story where God showed up as a bush that was on fire but never burned? Except I guess that was an actual burning bush…anyway, you get the idea.
What I’m trying to say is: we can walk around like miracles don’t exist, or we can walk around like miracles are everywhere.
Both are valid and both are 100% true (it’s called a paradox). But for me, believing in miracles makes walking around way more fun.
“Why all this random philosophical talk,” you ask?
Well, something happened to me the other day. I met my very own burning bush.
The burning bush I met on 13th Street
He was a little dog we found without a collar, dinking around on someone else’s lawn when we were taking our doggies for a night time walk.
Generally, our huskies are quite nice to little dogs once they get close enough to sniff their butt, but in the moments before said butt sniffing, they look like savage wolves chomping at the bit for a Scooby Snack. The little dog seemed totally unphased, though, and initiated the customary butt sniffing train upon our arrival.
My husband and I named him, “Little Boy,” but soon got saucy with it and nicknamed him, “Chico.”
What Chico taught me
Long story short, Chico followed us all the way home. But when I tried to pick him up to take him inside, he growled at me something fierce.
It was clear he was a free dog, and in some weird way I knew he was there to help ME, not the other way around.
Even still, I searched my City’s Facebook Page for a missing dog report. When I looked up from my phone, Little Boy was already across the street in our neighbor’s yard.
When I followed him, he darted further down the street like freaking Speedy Gonzales. There was no way I was going to catch him.
I could have tried harder, for sure, and there was part of me that felt like I should “do my duty” and get this dog back home. But when I listened to my intuition, it was clear that Chico wasn’t teaching me how to “do my duty.”
He was teaching me how to let go. About the impermanence of everything. How, in the end, everything under the sun is completely temporary. Chico entered my life for a while, and then he left. Such is life.
This happened in the middle of a really tough time for me, so it was a refreshing lesson to learn; everything is temporary, even the hard stuff. Especially the hard stuff.
When I stopped trying to force the situation based on some principle of what I was “supposed” to do and instead just payed attention to the present moment, I understood that Chico was going to be just fine. He taught me everything he needed to, and now he was moving on.
You’ll never believe it guys…the very next morning my husband sent me pictures of our front yard. It was of Chico, on a leash, being walked by his owners. Freaking magic.
A few days later we found him out and about on his own again, but this time he had a collar on. Turns out his name is Spike.
Hi everybody, meet Spike.
It’s weird to believe things are more than they are
It’s easy to see things as dull. I could have chalked this up to mere coincidence of coming upon a dog, the dog running away, and that’s it.
That’s a valid way of thinking and I can totally respect it. It is normal to think that way. But for me, it seems boring as hell and a great way to miss out on important life lessons.
In this case, I choose to be weird and believe that some things are more than they are. That life is constantly bringing me teachers, that I’m constantly walking past burning bushes, that miracles are happening all around me if only I would pay attention.
Not only is it more fun this way, but I also learn a lot more. I appreciate small things. I have more gratitude. I treat every coincidence like a miracle. And because of that, miracles really are everywhere.
If this sounds awesome to you, I encourage you to embrace your weird and keep believing in miracles. I’m right there with you!
If this sounds a little too hippy doo-dah for you, it’s okay. I get it. But if you’re willing, I challenge you to spend the rest of your day keeping a close eye out for burning bushes and get back to me about what you find, even if it’s just to say, “I tried it and nothing happened.” That’s alright, because I know something WILL happen for one of you dear skeptical readers, if you only pay attention.
Your sadnesses are more than they seem, too.
Sorry to break it to you, but there is likely something going on underneath your anger, sorrow, depression, and anxiety. It’s called a “great sadness,” and it is a ball of turbulent emotions and despair living inside of you, influencing your emotions this very second. Consider this you’re burning bush to finally deal with them.
I’ve been trying to figure out a way to identify and heal my great sadnesses pretty much all my life, but I finally found something that works. I wrote it down for you in my free guide to healing with a straightforward title, How to Identify and Heal Your First Great Sadness. Check it out here.