Whenever our world is turned upside down, wherever there is a wound, or things go black and all is unknown, the veil thins. Wherever there is a vulnerability, a crack in our defenses, in our sureties and our normalcies, the veil thins. Whenever there is a dying of something, our lives as we knew them, our old selves, our bodies, a loved one, the veil thins.
In this liminal, broken open place, the world and its interconnections seem to come alive in ways unexplainable. Here there is no division between the mundane and the magical…The departed turn into owls, spirits knock at doors, appeals are made by fox and coyote and crow. Here we come face to face with cougar on our evening walk, whom we had dreamt of the night before. Here the visions and voices of the sacred come to us. Here we learn the language of nature herself.
Only, it is not the world that has come alive, but we ourselves who have. We are the ones waking up, removing the sleep and the veils from our eyes, finally seeing clearly what has always been. Seeing not just what is in front of us, but what is beyond, beneath, above, around, within. Seeing not with the eyes of our mind, but the eyes of our soul.
And now, during these troubling though numinous times, the veil is thin and growing thinner. More than ever people are dreaming of ancestors and loved ones who’ve crossed over coming to help, to guide, to comfort. More than ever people are dreaming big dreams, showing us what is real and true about ourselves and the world we live in. Lifting the veil on all things. Lighting our way, and the world’s way, forward.
And here where the veil is thin, miracles occur. Not the miracles we might ask for, not cures or solutions, but the miracles that remind us we belong to a universe far more mysterious, more interwoven, more astonishing than we could ever comprehend. Miracles that may not solve the misfortunes in our lives, but instead allow us to soften into the-not-solving, allow us to live as deeply, as widely, as creatively and magically as possible. Miracles that may not change our circumstances, but that change us. These are the miracles of transformation.
But no transformation can occur, no death and rebirth are possible, without passing through this betwixt and between place, without resting awhile in not knowing what will come of us or where it is all headed. Because it is precisely in the vulnerability of not knowing, that the veil thins, that this magic opens to us, that transformation’s potential awaits.