Last night I got some disheartening news. I spent the earlier part of today feeling pouty and impatient with God. "Seriously," I thought, "What's the hold up? I know what I need so why am I not getting it?? Now." After mildly sulking all day, I marched off to teach yoga, still feeling deprived and slighted. I distractedly started teaching, deciding to change sets at the last minute and (feeling like I was) barely getting through the class.
When it came time for the students to relax and for me to play the gong, I was relieved. The gong and I are in relationship and the experience of playing has always been rapturous and enveloping. As usual, I was enveloped, but there was no rapture to be had. For the first time ever while playing, the gong schooled me. Wrapped up in the raw, primal sound current, I was stripped of my nonsense ego antics and a clear message came through: "You know what you want. You don't know what you need. God knows what you need and is providing it for you in every moment." I stopped pouting. How could I not?
During post-class community tea time, everyone reported getting exactly what they needed out of the experience, confirming this idea that we are being provided for. Tonight I had the immense honor of helping provide, and between good material and intuition was able to deliver, despite my initial distraction. I don't think there was any way for me not to provide, though. It's our work as humans. We deliver on God's behalf.
Because, see, miracles don't just "happen." Miracles are intricately crafted over time, involving the input of far more people than we realize and sometimes don't look at all like we thought they would. Aside from hermetic yogis meditating in caves (and maybe even them, too), we are all always participating in the creation and deliverance of miracles for each other...and sometimes we don't even know it! What may seem like an insignificantly small gesture to you can mean something so much more to the person receiving it. Sometimes our contribution is so removed from the fruition of the miracle that we'll never see it, but don't doubt that you matter- your thoughts and words and heartbeats ripple far and wide.
Supposing that God is actually providing me with everything that I truly need, I reframed the disheartening news. It occurred to me that this disappointment could actually be a gift, a saving grace, a miracle! The space that would've been occupied by what I wanted remains open and ready to receive what I really need. Someday perhaps I'll be still and quiet enough to easily discern what that actually is. In the meantime, I am grateful for the reminder that I am already receiving what I need in every moment. Thank you, in advance, for the miracles in the works.