Brushes with Death, Blessings in Disguise

When did I learn to see the world as a series of blessings? I think it the change came and went in bits and starts, the notion shining bright and then fading into darkness.  After the first time I almost died the world looked different, and so did I. At least to myself. Everyone said I just looked a little thinner, but I knew the reflection in the mirror had changed.

The second time death danced with me I knew I needed to change my life and stop listening to the insistent judgements and instructions of others. It took longer than it should have for me to release myself from the harmful pattern I had been prodded, shoved, nudged and “encouraged” into. I shifted, but not enough.

So yes, death brushed by me yet again, and this time I did change my life. And yet, even though I could see the blessing around me, I easily was caught up in daily life, and often was trapped in my own worries and sense of sadness. It seems that it can be difficult to focus on blessings when we are ignoring our own internal wisdom.

And then, I am not sure why, the voices inside me became too painfully loud to ignore. The daily discomfort pushed me to speak and act in ways that eventually ended a long career. As I walked out of my office for the last time, the voices joyfully sang in my heart. I froze, startled to remember that I had heard and felt them as a child. They had echoed inside me until I left home for college, or perhaps that is when I stopped listening.

I wonder, is my occasional and variable tinnitus the voices of spirit guides calling out to me? All I know is that at night when I feel blessed to be curled up in bed with a book, under a sturdy roof, with my dog snuggled next to me, I only hear the sounds of the wind and the love that surrounds me. And maybe this is the true gift of living a life recognizing our blessings, listening to our hearts, and following our soul’s cravings.