I’ve always been fascinated by miracles. I have seen them firsthand, and it gives me such a thrill because they often defy both logic and Science. They achieve an emotional or physical healing that should be “impossible”….and yet, it happens.
Whilst many of these spontaneous miracles sit in a realm beyond our ability to rationalise and explain, there is one type of miracle that I’ve come to understand a little deeper. That’s what I want to explore today….
I’ve spent many years exploring the text and workbook of A Course in Miracles. One of the greatest gifts it’s given me is the awareness that my thoughts and perceptions are often NOT the truth.
When something triggers me emotionally, I practice letting go of my own beliefs about what has just happened and how I have been “wronged”, and instead I invite Spirit in to show me a new perception.
A Course in Miracles refers to this as having a “tiny bit of willingness” to let Spirit (aka the Holy Spirit) into our thoughts. That’s all it needs in order to help us change our perception.
In doing this practice of creating space for an alternative viewpoint, there’s one thing that’s been undeniably clear to me. When we are hurting, and we think we know what’s wrong, we are incorrect.
There is always something else there, under the surface, which is the real issue. And when we can let go of that bone that our inner puppy is hanging onto for dear life (ie. our story about what’s just happened), and we allow that change in perception to be given to us, then the real issue can be revealed.
It’s often a subtle change in perception…but because it means we are now looking at the real issue and the true core of the problem, we now have the capacity to heal.
Often, as soon as we see the real issue, the pain we feel from the trigger is completely and instantaneously dissolved. How can we keep blaming something that’s no longer the cause, once our eyes are opened?
This is how I see miracles appearing in my own life.
A month ago, I made an intriguing observation. I’m at the start of a building project, and having conversations with both the builder and the project manager. I have a deep regard for both of them, however it’s not all been smooth sailing.
I waltzed into the builder’s office one day, bringing with me 2 tiles that I’ve used on a previous project. “Is it OK if I use these instead of your selection?” I asked. “And I’d also like to paint the walls white, and I’d like to use a higher quality vinyl flooring on the floor.”
The whole in-person conversation was lovely. He was amenable, kept telling me what a lovey calm energy I exuded, and seemed completely happy to vary his normal processes to accommodate my uniqueness.
That felt great, and I left with a happy heart.
But then, as these discussions evolved (this time without my physical presence but instead over email or text), I was meeting with a lot of resistance. Admittedly, I was also requesting some garden beds at the front of the property, to bring nature in. Whilst this seemed completely “natural” to me (with my anchor in nature), I felt as though I had to battle for every change, even the ones I’d previously discussed.
I was meeting with a hard “no” around the garden beds, and a lot of emotional energy around the other changes (reminding me in no uncertain terms that I was being a difficult client).
One day, when I was becoming quite worked up about this, I called another woman who’s working with the same builder and project manager. I wanted a sounding board to my ideas.
There was a huge gift in that conversation.
As I listened to her, she categorically stated what she was going to ask them to do for her project. There was no angst in her voice, no drama, no sense of threat. She was totally clear that this was what she wanted, and this was what she would get.
And indeed she did. They gave her the requested garden beds without any resistance whatsoever.
In that mirror that she so unknowingly held up to me, I saw that I wasn’t in that same empowered space that she was when I was dealing with these men.
I was already on the defensive, already feeling that I would have to battle for every “win” in this project, for every variation, and in every conversation.
Shortly after, I was chatting to my spiritual mentor.
“Your energy is all over the place,” he said to me. “What’s going on?” And I told him about the small dramas I was having on the project, and how I was feeling triggered by having to assert myself around these strong male energies.
This has been a recurring pattern for me, which I’ve recognised goes back to my childhood, and my father’s strong authoritative energy. If my brother and I fought, the end result was usually some discipline from our Dad – being spanked until we cried, or strapped with a rubber hose. Because of the sensitivity of my Spirit, this punishment always felt too extreme.
My spiritual mentor pondered my statement. “It would be good for you to protect yourself before you go into these conversations with these men,” he said, and that was sage advice indeed.
But something else was going on.
I reflected back on my first marriage, which ended 30 years ago. I adored my husband Clive, but roughly every 6 months we’d get into a strange dynamic that ended with him hitting me across the face.
I justified this by telling myself that I loved him so much, this “little bit” of violence was far outweighed by all the amazingness of our connection. But in the end it was our undoing, and I left him for another man.
Who I am today, and who I was then, are two very different women. But there is one thread that still binds us.
When Clive and I would get into these strange dynamics, I knew he was about to hit me. I would feel myself shrinking in my skin, turning into a young girl who was catatonic, unable to voice myself, unable to say no or defend myself. And the more withdrawn I became, the more angry Clive became, until he hit me. Then there were tears, and apologies, and we’d make up and move on as if nothing had happened.
As I reflected on this just a month ago, I thought of a bleeding lamb. Bleeding lambs attract wolves. The blood and weakness in one creature fires up the hunger and aggression in another creature.
That catatonic and terrified girl is my bleeding lamb. I’d become so utterly vulnerable and so “knowing” that I was a lamb about to be slaughtered, that I would just stand there and allow the inevitable to happen.
I am an incredibly powerful, strong woman and more capable of looking after myself and tackling tough situations than almost any other woman I know. But this bleeding lamb still lives within me, waiting her time to be healed.
I thought about my mother and my grandmother. My Mum married a very strong, assertive man (my father). While he never hit her, he disciplined my brother and me in a very physical and painful way. Mum stood by passively while that happened.
My Grandmother also married a very strong, manipulative man. When I was 13, I was in a public toilet with my Mum and her mum. My Grandmother was showing Mum the bruises on her hip, where her husband (my Grandfather) had kicked her down the stairs.
“Hmmmm,” I thought. “So this isn’t just my own stuff. This is family lineage trauma, which I’m living out in my own dynamics with men. I’ve brought this through from my mother and my grandmother. Both of them also have bleeding lambs inside them, that attract the wolves.”
And this is where the shift, the miracle, happened.
I’ve always thought that my problem is the pattern I have with strong men. In seeing my problem in this way, my focus is on the men themselves. I see how they can become bullyish, aggressively assertive, and not listening. And then I want to know how to strengthen and protect myself around them.
But in my miracle, I saw that this is not my problem at all. It’s the symptom, but not the cause.
My issue lies deep within me. It’s the bleeding lamb that has passed from mother to daughter throughout who knows how many generations.
That bleeding lamb is a magnet which draws out the aggression and overpowering energy in a man. Whilst I never condone abuse or aggression in a relationship, I see very clearly that the solution lies with me.
I haven’t embarked on this journey, yet I’ve been shown the steps ahead. I am called to find that bleeding lamb inside of me, to sit with her, and to fully meet her. I have no idea how to heal her, but I also trust that will be shown to me as part of this journey.
She’s the one that needs healing.
Otherwise, while she still bleeds inside of me, I will always need to be on the defensive around strong men.
But once she’s healed, I will then draw to myself experiences of the kindness and positive strength and protective energy in men, rather than being hunter and hunted. And if I am around a strong man, the strong warrioress in me will ensure I am always safe.
