Close Calls & Miracles

So many close calls lately. So many that it seems as though Life is whispering a message I’m just not getting.  There was falling a couple of weeks ago, and landing on the back corner of my skull, with almost my entire weight behind the impact. A miracle that I didn’t break my neck, and that aside from the knot that sprouted on the back of my noggin, there were no after effects, not even any pain. Then, just yesterday, I dropped my entire ring on keys into the lake while parking the sailboat. Miraculously, there was an old roofer’s magnet lying around the boathouse, and on the third try it hauled up what felt like the keys to my entire life. The remote to the car even worked. There’ve been a couple of close calls on the bike lately, and an instance or two of leaving something where it should have grown feet and walked off, but didn’t.

I often think of my life in terms of flow. When I’m effortlessly gliding through my days and weeks, I can’t help but feel that I’m doing just what I ought to be doing, that my own personal “universe is unfolding as it should”. So, if there’s anything to this notion, what might it mean to have so many things almost go disastrously wrong, only to suddenly right themselves? Should I be rushing to the convenience store to buy a lottery ticket every time some gruesome possibility eludes me? Or should I simply be more alert, attentive to my steps and choices?

It’s more observation than question, really.  I decided years ago that, when it comes to the question of miracles – that is: Do they never happen? Or do they happen all the time? – my full endorsement goes to the latter. One might argue that, by definition, the miraculous can’t be commonplace. But there’s wonderful evidence that it is, and it lies in the simple fact of being, as in: me being here, and you being here. Biology tells us that in the human sexual act millions of sperm cells are released, each of which contains a different variant of the genetic material, and hence, a different potential person. Which means that every single one of us human inhabitants of Earth is the one sperm cell that made it, against odds of many millions to one. Miraculous!

Not that it matters what we believe about such things. Like they say, gravity works whether we believe in it or not. Personally, I enjoy reflecting on it...the wonder of it all. No ticket necessary. The lottery is won.