The Miracle of My Life

Everything’s a miracle.  It always was.  It always will be. Ah, but we forget and grow sleepy, very sleepy, nodding off and morphing into wandering somnambulists.  Our eyes veiled, we see not; our ears plugged,  we hear not. We become  pre-occupied,  unavailable, entranced, deluded....trapped as it were. In other words - normal. Speaking of normal, one morning, after drinking a cup of Ordinary Tap Water, as was my practice upon waking, I found that a Hypnotist, or so he called himself, had moved into my house! I said, Who - Are - You? To which he replied that He was Me, whereupon he summarily pulled down the shades and slammed all the doors shut -  all the while talking in a soothing and seductive voice. I had this queer feeling that he was casting a spell, but before I could say Lickety Split, The Light began to fade as did my Sense of Wonder which grew faint like a distant beautiful dream vaguely remembered. I felt a bit tired, confused, and somewhat bewildered. The next thing I knew, I awakened to find that My Life Had Moved Along, that it had become routinized, habitual, concretized but somehow, oddly enough, pleasantly familiar like an old, well-worn shoe. Time passed, and I settled in. And then one day, out of the blue, or so it seemed, there came a rap, rap, rapping upon my door. I reluctantly stirred, arose and opened it - just slightly. There appeared a Mysterious Stranger; he looked - hmmm, weather beaten, a tad unkempt, but he seemed to be happy and friendly and a bit on the mischievous side. I was intrigued. His voice was soft, reassuring and strangely familiar. Throwing caution to the wind,  I let Him in. He sat down, stretched, yawned, and took out an old encrusted bottle filled with water. He opened it and offered me some, whereupon He told me, in a voice all aquiver, that it had been prophesied by the ancients that the day would come when the waters, the very waters I had been drinking, would be changed, poisoned, that is, and that whosoever drank thereof would be rendered instantly insane and they would have no memory of ever having been any other way and that this water, His Water, which he offered me, would instantly, miraculously, restore me to sanity. Hmmm, I thought, I’ll give that a try, so I, playing it safely, of course, as was my custom, took a little sip.    Ah, it was deliciously cool, so refreshing and so very clear. Thereafter, I recall, rubbing my eyes and blinking as if awakening from a long sleep. He told me that this water came from the Well of Remembrance which, if I followed him, He would lead me to - but he continued, I will have to, at least temporarily, leave All-of-This behind and subject myself to a long and arduous journey into the vast wilderness of The Valley of the Shadow of Death where, he said, I must go alone carrying only what I need. During that time, I must not eat for four days and for four nights, and perform certain specified rituals, and I must drink solely from the waters of The Well of Remembrance, which I did....        And so it came to pass, Dear Reader, that I was made whole once again -- my vision, my hearing and my sanity restored onto me as was The Miracle of My Life and my place in it. -----________________________ Phil Baum, B.S., Ed.M, has worked in the field of education since 1961; he's been a teacher of English, a psychology professor, an associate professor of counseling, and educational opportunity innovator and program director, a successful grant writer, yoga instructor and teacher of meditation. He has participated in and led a variety of vision quests. Phil is also a published poet and writer.

 

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