Do I believe in miracles? I don't think so. "Believing" in something is a little too fixed for my experience of this constantly changing, shifting world. But miracles? I witness them daily. There is the miracle of an angry face melting into an easeful smile. There is the miracle of snow covering a whole city in a quiet purity. There is the miracle of the snow melting, revealing the ordinary colors of our daily life. What is it we call a miracle? Isn't it to recognize the fullness, the great wholeness of life as it expresses itself in each moment? The miracle of house sparrows frolicking in the winter undergrowth; the living beings all around us; the miracle of steam flowing from a good cup of coffee — ahhh!
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