Everyday Miracles   by Valerie Rickel

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Messages Delivered on Feathered Wings

This New Year, I have been "called" to share my "voice"—my soulful musings, if you will—my thoughts and feelings about life and the world around me, at my web site, SoulfulLiving.com. This January marks SoulfulLiving.com’s fifth year anniversary on the World Wide Web. It is hard to believe that I have been publishing our online magazine for nearly 60 months now. Whoosh! Time flies quickly when you are having fun and following your life’s purpose.

Those who know me well, know that I enjoy living life with a child’s wonder and find immense joy in discovering symbolism and deep meaning in everyday life. I seek out such symbolism. I believe deeply that we are all connected in our vast and miraculous Universe. I absolutely live for synchronicity and signs of the miraculousness of it all. The stories from my daily life are sometimes so strangely and soulfully amusing, they prompted my personal life coach, last year, to tell me she thought I would make a great "metaphysical stand-up comedian." That sounded like a fun idea, but doesn’t exactly sound like me. An author friend, who upon interviewing me about a personal story of synchronicity for her upcoming book, came to the conclusion that I live my life as a "visionary." Now, that I like the sounds of! It was another author friend—someone who has become somewhat of a father figure to me over the last five years—who upon hearing my crazy, but also miraculous, tale from this past holiday, declared it would make a wonderful short story. So, with his suggestion in mind—likened to that of having a bird whisper in my ear, I took pen in hand, and feeling deeply inspired, began writing what has become the first installment of my new Soulful Musings Column, "Everyday Miracles."

With each new issue of SoulfulLiving.com, I plan to share a story from my life—the extraordinary, and oftentimes seemingly ordinary—miracles that fill my days. They are quiet miracles, the kind I would never expect to receive. Small gifts from the Universe that aren’t often presented in the typical packaging or recognizable form that one might expect when receiving a miracle. But, that’s the beauty. Each seemingly ordinary, "every day" gift or miracle is ours to uncover, to discover, and to make extraordinary.

Miraculous Endings and Beginnings

My artist father "lived for" finding the meaning, messages, and symbolism hidden in his favorite artists’ work and in his own art, as well. He was a graphic designer by trade, but by night, he "painted from the right side of his brain" and often stayed up till the early hours of the morning, exploring his unconscious mind with the soft boar bristles of his acrylic paint paintbrush. He kept journals filled with the insights and meaning he found in his paintings, and in his dreams, too, and often filled an entire book with the analysis of just a few key paintings or dreams. His journals are a great treasure to me. They are filled with much wisdom and insight. My father considered his creativity to be "answered prayer," art to be "a Glimpse of God," and painting, "Angel Consciousness."

After he died in 1998, I found great comfort and solace in his paintings and his writings, as I was better able to understand the man he was and the "deeper meaning" that he spent his life so desperately seeking.

I myself do nothing. The Holy Spirit accomplishes all through me.
--William Blake (1757-1827), British artist and poet

I believe he found his "deeper meaning" in his last painting, entitled, "Easter Basket," painted just three weeks before his fatal heart attack, when he collapsed on a sidewalk, fell into a coma, and stopped breathing on Easter Day. The painting depicts the figure of a basketball player (an important symbol in my father’s life, as he was an avid college basketball fan), sinking a ball into an eye-shaped basket. With one foot off the ground, he seems to be preparing to climb a thumb-shaped vine or trellis, into what appears to be a beautifully illuminated opening in the sky. This painting provided many profound insights for my father. During his initial analysis, he references the two different painting techniques he used and writes, "The result is striking! If the chaotic forms suggest the unconscious and the ordered forms the conscious, then, just as symbolized by a mandala, the harmonious integration of the two techniques can be thought of as representing ‘the wholeness of the psyche or self!’ The painting thus exhibits ‘a sense of completeness’ and itself becomes ‘a symbol of transcendence.’" Upon further examination, just four days before his heart attack, my father made an even more profound discovery, of what appeared to be a "Christ-like vision" in his painting—the profile of Jesus. The thumb-like shape formed His nose, the basket and ball formed His eye with uplifted pupil, and the opening in the sky, formed His Crown of Thorns. A profound and miraculous discovery, indeed. When I step back a few feet from this painting, I can also see this sacred vision—the final creation of my father’s unconscious mind, his "Angel Consciousness"—and quite literally, a "Glimpse of God."

One of my most treasured memories of my father—and the one that I long for most—is of him sitting our family down to share his insights and symbolic interpretations of the wondrous paintings of his favorite painters. I will never forget his enthusiasm and intentness with which he worked to "solve the puzzles" and decipher all of the rich symbolism and metaphorical messages presented in their paintings. These sessions were filled with rich wisdom about life and Truth, and I miss them greatly. What I wouldn’t give for just one of more of those precious lessons.

Some of my father’s favorite "symbolic" painters included Vincent Van Gogh, Paul Klee, Rene Magritte, and Marc Chagall. I am a huge fan of these artists, too. One of my favorites, Chagall, was a Jewish, post-impressionist painter, whose brightly colored, abstract paintings are filled with rich metaphoric and poetic iconography. Many of his paintings incorporate themes from the Old and New Testaments and are filled with the iconic imagery of angels, birds, cows, lovers, flowers, moons, fans, violinists, and even upside-down houses. Sprinkled within and around the larger, more colorful images of his paintings, we often find what appear to be smaller, perhaps pen-drawn illustrations, repeating many of these same themes. They are often difficult to see at first glance, but if you study his paintings carefully enough, you will uncover a most delightful and surprising array of symbols.

The night before my father died, I remember staring into the postcard size image of Chagall’s "Blue Angel" painting, which was sitting on my desk. It hadn’t been sitting there long. It had only miraculously appeared within the pages of a book, where I had apparently placed it some years earlier after a visit to the museum with my family. This book had been on loan to a friend and had just gotten returned about a month earlier. It was the smaller-size version of the full-size print that hangs over my fireplace. I had looked at and pondered the full-size painting dozens of times over the four years I had owned it, and I thought I had discovered all of the beautiful symbols gracing it’s surface. But, that night, I discovered a new image, one that had gone completely unnoticed in all previous examinations. A very faint and tiny, nearly imperceptible, depiction of what appears to be a male angel, flying overhead the larger, main female "blue angel" in the painting, an image of which I always found myself identifying with. He is flying in the opposite direction and appears to be keeping watch over her. Need I even tell you how the meaning of that painting grew exponentially in my heart the next day?

I suppose I am a "chip off the old block," or perhaps you could describe my father and me as "two birds of a feather," because nothing is more interesting to me than searching out the deeper meaning, the hidden messages and the symbolism in life. Just as art and dreams were fodder for my father’s soul to ponder. My soulful muses are the small and oftentimes unnoticed and seemingly insignificant miracles we all experience, every day of our lives.

There is one symbol that Marc Chagall used quite frequently in his paintings and is the one that stands out for me at this time of the New Year. It is the image of a rooster, which my father interpreted as symbolizing "new beginnings." So, with the symbol of a rooster and thoughts of new beginnings held in my heart and in my mind, I share with you my first "Everyday Miracles" story.

A Tale of Two Birds

This tale begins with a story from the holidays. It was just my cats and me this holiday season, and as I "decked the halls" and decorated my Christmas tree, in the home where I am currently living—My deceased parents’ home, the home where I grew up and have spent the last year trying desperately to sort through and clear with the help of my sister—I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be something rather disturbing behind the screen of my fireplace. I dreaded taking a better look, but as I slowly parted the fireplace screen, it turned out to be exactly what I feared it would be—a dead bird, a pigeon I believe. My first thought was, how did it get into my fireplace? My parents hadn’t used the fireplace in years, and I was sure the chimney flue had been closed all this time, but apparently it hadn’t been. So, here, next to my lovely little Christmas tree, was a dead bird, and I realized there was no one around but my kitties and me to remove it. Ugh. I had to wonder, "What had I done that was so terrible this year that Santa would bring me a dead bird for Christmas?" I cringed and got squeamish and decided I couldn’t deal with it until morning, so I boarded off the fireplace with several large flattened cardboard boxes and stayed out of the living room for the rest of the night. It was such a distasteful thought, to have a decomposing bird in my fireplace for Christmas.

Now I’m no expert on Christmas and traditions, but aren’t birds supposed to be symbolic of the season? For instance, the song, "The 12 Days of Christmas," describes quite a few birds that "my true love gave to me," namely, swans, geese, calling birds, French hens, turtledoves, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Our fireplace is the hearth of our house, what I have always considered to be the heart of our home. I have many wonderful memories near that hearth, particularly during the holidays, and all the love my family and I shared there. It was a family tradition, of sorts, in my home that my father and mother would stay up till the very late hours on Christmas Eve—until morning some years, I believe, working busily away, as Mr. and Mrs. Claus, decorating the fireplace, mantel and Christmas Tree with artistic and lovingly gift-wrapped gifts and decor. They worked very hard each year and seemed driven to make it absolutely perfect for my sister and me. They kept up the tradition so well, in fact, that I was ten—yes, I said, TEN—until I began to have doubts about Santa Claus’ true existence. (I still remember how the question of, "How exactly did Santa get that enormous wooden play stove down the chimney back when I was five?" plagued my mind for hours during one fifth grade assembly at school.) The day I learned that Santa Claus was not real was one of the saddest days of my life. In one day, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy all died, along with some of my childhood naiveté and innocence, I imagine, too.

On Christmas mornings, my sister and I had our own tradition. We would wake up at the crack of dawn in hopes of seeing what Santa had brought. But, unfortunately, every year, we would have to wait until mom and dad were awake—typically not until late morning, or noon some years—to arrive in the living room, with movie camera and coffee in hand, before we were allowed in the living room to see what Santa had left for us. (I’m not sure why I never put it all together—why my parents were so tired Christmas morning and had to sleep in—but I guess we allow ourselves to be delirious to those things we want so deeply to believe in.) Well, back to our hearth. I have very fond memories of my sister and me sitting by that fireplace, opening our special gifts—those that my parents had hand selected and so carefully wrapped and presented as gifts from Santa—and the memory of our parents and grandparents there with us all those years, sharing in the merriment, joy and wonder of the miracles of Christmas morning.

So, returning to Christmas 2004. Here I am, alone in our home now, grandparents gone long ago, and parents more recently deceased, trying to keep up the holiday traditions and keep the festive merriment alive, and what special gift do I receive in my "chimney stocking"? A dead bird, of all things. I finally decided I couldn’t look at my tree any longer, in its position near the fireplace, so I moved it to another side of the room and placed it up high on a table. Still, I could barely bring myself to enter the living room. I believe it was Christmas Eve morning when I finally felt brave enough to pull the pigeon out of the fireplace. With squinted eyes and gloved hands, I reached in there and pulled it out. And, then, behold, to what did my wondering eyes did appear, but a second dead pigeon, flank right and more near. What luck, I thought! I’d been so good this year, Santa decided to bring me two dead birds down my chimney.

It did occur to me that I might have misinterpreted the intended recipient(s) of these gifts. Perhaps, Santa had brought them for my kitties, who, by this time, had become pretty disinterested with the whole gruesome scene. Geez, these poor birds! A friend of mine thinks they must have flown in, and frightened, flew around and hit their heads on the bricks and fallen to their death. A terrible tragedy, in my book, as I love animals dearly. The whole experience left me feeling quite sad and definitely less than merry. Of course, one of first things I thought of was, "What kind of terrible omen is this to find two dead birds in my fireplace?" I vehemently resisted that part of myself, who so desperately seeks out symbolism in every part of life. I literally had to hold back my fingers from typing a search on the Internet. My rational mind knew I was sad enough already, and I didn’t need my sadness and fears to be further confirmed.

On Christmas Eve, I felt a burning desire to revisit the holiness of the holiday and attend a midnight mass service. I asked family and friends to join me that evening at church, but could not find anyone with the stamina to stay up that late. I grew tired myself and decided to spend midnight quietly at home with my own thoughts, making my own traditions. I remembered hearing a local DJ on the radio that morning talking about a letter his grandmother had sent him, detailing the traditions that she and his grandfather used to enjoy on Christmas Eve, which included sitting by the fireplace and reading "Luke 2" from the Bible. Upon remembering this lovely story, I went searching for my father’s bible, laid down on my bed, and read Luke 1 and 2, the story of the Immaculate Conception and the birth of Jesus Christ, aloud to my cats. Halfway through, I grew tired and nearly put down the book to close my eyes. But, gratefully, I held them open just long enough to discover a few more beautiful and miraculous passages, and here is what I read:

21 And when eight days were accomplished for the circumcising of the child, his name was called JESUS, which was so named of the angel before he was conceived in the womb.

22 And when the days of her purification according to the law of Moses was accomplished, they brought him to Jerusalem, to present him to the Lord;

23 (As it is written in the law of the Lord, Every male that openeth the womb shall be called holy to the Lord;)

24 And to offer a sacrifice according to that which is said in the law of the Lord, A pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons.

St. Luke 2:21-24, Holy Bible, King James Version, Cambridge at the University Press, pg. 84

Imagine my extraordinary delight. My Christmas bird omen was all at once transformed into my Christmas bird miracle. I had received two quietly symbolic—and rather Still—Christmas gifts, the memory of which will forever warm my heart and the hearth of my home.

I recall saying a prayer earlier in the season, asking that my mother and father "be present" with us at Christmas this year. My neighbor and good friend, Heather, upon hearing this story, proclaimed, "They were present!" A nice sentiment, I thought, and, it appears, they came bearing presents, too!

My father always said that it's the gifts that money can’t buy that are the most meaningful in life. I believe that. Thank you mom and dad for always making Christmas so special.

Ironically, bird themes appeared in my life with abundance this holiday season. I’ve enjoyed gazing out my window, over the top of my computer monitor, at a large lone bird nest—a crow’s nest, I believe—which must be at least 100 feet in the air. I’ve watched as it’s swayed back and forth, with great force, at times, during our rather unusually stormy Southern California winter, on a lovely barren tree that has stood in my neighbor Heather’s front yard for as long as I can remember. It’s a miraculous site to behold, but I pray with all my heart that its inhabitants left during a season long ago. Their previous home visible only now, in this tree bereft of its foliage.

Also, I must confess that I had spent much too much time during the month of December on the Web, searching for a fabulous small, antique, sterling silver bird brooch on eBay that I had let slip away in an auction earlier this year. I’ve regretted it ever since, and I never did find it. I know, I know, I shouldn’t put so much emphasis on material things. (My father would be so disappointed!) But, I seemed somewhat obsessed with finding it, for really no known reason, other than the fact that it was a well-designed, and rather unusual, stylized Arts and Crafts representation of a peacock or pheasant, whose tail feathers formed the shape of a pierced paisley design. Of course, my mother and father weren’t able to give me that lovely brooch this Christmas, but perhaps knowing how much I wanted it, brought me something they knew would be even nicer—something non materialistic, definitely well wrapped and disguised, and far more special and miraculous—and, after all, aren’t two birds better than one?

After the New Year, with all this behind me, I was finally able to sit down at my computer and do the Internet research on birds and symbolism that my fingers had so desperately itched to do.

Upon doing a search on bird symbolism, I was not surprised to find that my initial fears and concerns were confirmed—yes, finding dead birds in one’s home is indeed considered an omen, a negative sign. I share this alternative interpretation because it really punctuates the significance of symbols—symbols can be seen as good or bad, and we have the power to choose our own meaning and interpretation. If we accept that we are all children of God, and that God is good and loving, then seeing a symbol leads us naturally to a positive interpretation. I could have chosen to worry and fret, but instead, I chose to accept this auspicious event as a special gift and welcomed it as a miracle into my life. I think I chose the better way.

Getting back to those birds that "my true love gave to me," I discovered this interesting information on Preacher Stevenson’s Internet pages: http://www.geocities.com/alexstevenson.geo/christmas/12days.htm

From 1558 to 1829 Roman Catholics in England were not able to practice their faith openly so they had to find other ways to pass on their beliefs. The song "The Twelve Days of Christmas" is one example of how they did it. "The 12 Days of Christmas" is in a sense an allegory. Each of the items in the song represents something of religious significance. The hidden meaning of each gift was designed to help young Christians learn their faith.

The song goes, "On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…"

The "true love" represents God and the "me" who receives these presents is the Christian.

The "partridge in a pear tree" was Jesus Christ who died on a tree as a gift from God. (Another version of this gift is that it represents the one true God revealed in Jesus.) The "two turtle doves" were the Old and New Testaments—another gift from God. The "three French hens" were faith, hope and love—the three gifts of the Spirit that abide (I Corinthians 13). The "four calling birds" were the four Gospels, which sing the song of salvation through Jesus Christ. The "five golden rings" were the first five books of the Bible also called the "Books of Moses." The "six geese a-laying" were the six days of creation. The "seven swans a swimming" were seven gifts of the Holy Spirit (the seven sacraments of the Roman Catholic Church). The "eight maids a milking" were the eight beatitudes. The "nine ladies dancing" were nine fruits of the Holy Spirit. (Galatians 5:22-23 ) The "ten lords a-leaping" were the Ten Commandments. The "eleven pipers piping" were the eleven faithful disciples. The "twelve drummers drumming" were the twelve points of the Apostles’ Creed.

Fr. Saunders, pastor of Our Lady of Hope Church in Potomac Falls writes, "Two turtle doves represent the Old and New Testaments. Also, Jewish couples of modest income offered two turtle doves instead of the customary lamb as a sacrifice to God when they presented their newborn child in the Temple. Interestingly, our Blessed Mother Mary and St. Joseph offered a sacrifice of two turtle doves for the presentation of our Lord (cf. Luke 2:22-24)." http://www.catholicherald.com/saunders/98ws/ws981217.htm

Further Internet research reveals that birds—specifically doves and pigeons, which are also known as rock doves—have been important throughout time, in many different spiritual traditions around the world.

"In ancient Greek mythology the dove represented Aphrodite, goddess of beauty and love, and figures in the holy books of the major monotheistic religions. The earliest reference is in the Old Testament, where Noah releases a dove to seek land, and it returns with an olive branch showing that life had been restored following the deluge. From then on the olive branch and the dove became symbols of friendship and peace. In the New Testament, when Jesus is being baptized, the Holy Ghost alights on his head in the form of a white dove, which is why in Christian iconography the dove represents the Holy Ghost. In the Koran, when Mohammed is fleeing from the Qureysh, he hides in a cave. Spiders weave webs over the entrance and a dove makes her nest, so his pursuers do not bother to look inside and he is saved." http://www.atamanhotel.com/capp-dove.html

"The dove has been immortalized as the symbol of purity, grace, and unconditional love. Revered in most world cultures as a harbinger of peace and love, the dove has earned a special place in the human heart. Mythology associates doves with love and Mother goddesses such as the Persian Ishtar, the Roman Venus, and the Egyptian Isis, as well as the enigmatic figure of the Christian Holy Spirit. The dove has been hailed, over and over, in mythology as the savior of humanity. In fact, a white dove, seen flying overhead, is considered a very good omen, and many people stake their luck for the coming year on the cry of a dove." http://www.shawcreekbirdsupply.com/mythology.htm

At the web site of the International Sufi Movement, Hazrat Inayat Khan shares these thoughts on birds as messengers:

The bird represents the wayfarer of the sky, and at the same time it represents a being who though it belongs to the earth is capable of dwelling in the skies. The former explanation of the bird represents the idea of a soul whose dwelling place is heaven, and the latter represents the dweller on earth being able to move about in the higher spheres; and both these explanations give the idea that the spiritual man, dwelling on the earth, is from heaven. They also explain that the spiritual man is the inhabitant of the heavens and is only dwelling on earth for a while.

The pigeon is used as a messenger, to carry a message from one place to another, and therefore the symbol of the dove is a natural one to represent the messenger from above. Spiritual bliss is such a wonderful experience that if a bird or an animal were to have it, it would never return to its own kind. But it is to man's credit that after touching that point of great happiness and bliss he comes back into the world of sorrows and disappointments and delivers his message.

This quality can also be seen in the pigeon: when the pigeon is sent it goes, but it faithfully comes back to its master. The spiritual man performs this duty doubly: he reaches higher than the human plane, touches the divine plane, and brings the message from the divine to the human plane. In this way, instead of remaining on the divine plane, he returns to be among his fellowmen for their welfare, which is no small sacrifice. Besides he performs a duty to God, from whom he brings the message which he delivers to humanity. He lives as a human being, subject to love, hate, praise, and blame; he passes his life in the world of attachment and the life that binds him with a thousand ties on all sides; and yet he does not forget the place whence he has come, and he constantly and eagerly looks forward to reaching the goal for which he is bound. Therefore in both these journeys, from earth to heaven and from heaven to earth, the idea of the dove proves to be the most appropriate of all. http://www.sufimovement.org/symbology.htm

I am reminded that Angels, like their fellow feathered bird friends, are also viewed as messengers. Author, Denise Linn writes:

Angels are messengers. They are messengers from Spirit allowing us a greater understanding and connection to Spirit. The word angel comes from angelos which is the Greek word for messenger. Not only are angels messengers, they are also part of our consciousness, representing realms beyond thought and idea. Though the form of angels changes from culture to culture, almost every culture throughout the world has reports of angels. There are angels in Christian, Judaic and Islamic lore. Angels were reported in ancient Assyrian and Mesopotamian, Buddhism, Zoroastrianism and Taoism. Ancient Greeks called them horae, Vikings called them valkyries, in Persia they were fereshta, to the Hindus they were apsaras, and in the African religion of the Yoruba angels were called orisha. Traditionally In Sha-manism (which is the primordial spiritual path of all indigenous people) there are reports of ascending birdlike spirits. These half-bird/half-human spirits are called the bird people or the bird tribes. http://www.kindness.com.au/about_angels.htm

On an early January morning, while preparing breakfast and pondering the wondrous possibilities of writing my new "Everyday Miracles" Column, I cracked open a large brown egg, and quite to my surprise, two yolks slipped briskly from their shell and landed with a splash into my frying pan below. Somewhat in a state of disbelief, I had to do a double take to confirm what I had seen.

Two eggs for the price of one? Had I been charged accordingly for this lovely bonus box of eggs? What a wonderful gift, I thought.

I don’t eat eggs very often, so I have no idea whether this was an ordinary or extraordinary event. But, this double-yolk egg certainly felt special to me. Had these eggs been fertile and properly hatched, would they have produced twin chicks? Perhaps, the experts say.

At Poultry 101, Jerry D. Jones offers the following insights on hatching double-yolk eggs. "Yes, if you are lucky, you will get twins. However, much like human twins, one will be undersized and may not survive so be aware of this. They may look like identical twins but they did not develop from a single egg that split but rather from two different eggs caught in the same shell." http://www.jhines.org/poultry/poultry101-selection.html

At OldWivesTales.net, I was reminded that, "Eggs are traditionally surrounded with thoughts relating to birth, fertility, and rebirth … thanks to Easter's Christian undertones and the Easter Egg." http://www.oldwivestales.net/QandAarticle1019.html

With further searching, I came across a wives’ tale pertaining specifically to double-yolk eggs. It would suggest that I am pregnant, or perhaps, pregnant with twins. Neither of these scenarios is a possibility, however. But, perhaps my double-yolk egg is symbolic of new beginnings—the birth of my "voice" and this column—and new life direction taking flight on newly sprouted wings.

I seem to have been gifted with a special pair of feathered appendages this Christmas holiday, which I see as being symbolic of the love and support of my parents. As if from the scene of a celebratory release of doves, my parents are sending me off into the sky and cheering, "Spread your wings and fly!"

I wasn’t quite sure how to close this first installment of "Everyday Miracles," but once again, I am reminded that when we are open and alert to answers and inspiration, they always come, and often in quite unexpected packaging. In this case, my answer came in the trash, or to be exact, on top of my waste paper basket, beside my desk.

I had just finished reading the final version of this story and wasn’t quite satisfied with its ending. I put the pages of the story down on top my desk and went over to pull open a drawer of a roll-around caddy to fetch a computer disk to use to make a scan of my father’s painting, Easter Basket, for use as a visual for this story. When I opened the drawer, the caddy tipped forward a bit, sending a whole stack of books tumbling to the ground. I collected them all and put them back where they belonged, left the room, and made a mental note to come back to empty my wastebasket, so that I could take the trash to the curb, when I left to run my errand to the copy store to have my scan made.

When I returned to my office, to my absolute amazement and delight, I found a gift waiting for me—my answer—lying horizontally, right across the top of my wastebasket, as if it had been placed there on purpose to ensure that I would see it. It was a holiday greeting card that my family had made the year my father died, which featured an illustration of his on the cover. I know I had a copy of this card somewhere in my office, but I am fairly sure it wasn’t above or next to the wastebasket. All I can figure is that when the books fell, it must have dislodged this card from wherever it was displayed and the fan in the room allowed it to take flight on its own, to its final resting place—on top of my wastebasket.

The picture on the card was an illustration that my father had designed for an adult education class that he had been developing to present at his church around the time of his death. The name of the class was going to be, "Art and Angel Consciousness," and, as you can probably guess, he was going to be teaching on the topic of "art and meaning."

The timely appearance of this illustrative greeting card makes me believe that my father wanted to have his say in how this story ends, since after all, it did begin with him. It was as if he was confirming my use of his "Easter Basket" painting and saying, "How about taking this illustration along to the copy store for a scan, too?"

The illustration in question is titled, "Angel with Spool-Shaped Body," and I can’t help but notice the angel’s rather pronounced outstretched wings. The caption he inscribed below the angel reads, "At some point we grasp the end of a thread and start pulling to see where it leads." This phrase feels particularly meaningful at this time.

Thank you, dad, for the abundance of gifts you left behind—your love, your wisdom, your art and creativity—your "Angel Consciousness" and "Glimpses of God." They are the very best and most meaningful kind of gifts—the kind that "keep on giving" and that no money can buy.

Peace to you and yours this New Year’s. May your life be overflowing with the joy and wonder of everyday miracles.

Everyday Miracles™ © Copyright 2005 Valerie Rickel.  "Easter Basket" and "Angel Consciousness" Illustrations © Copyright 2005.  All Rights Reserved.  

Recommended Resources:

Articles on "Signs, Symbols & Meaning" at SoulfulLiving.com

Articles on "Flow and Synchronicity" at SoulfulLiving.com

Suggested Books on the Topics of "Flow and Synchronicity"

Read Valerie's New "Soulful Musings" Blog

Valerie Rickel is the founder and creator of SoulfulLiving.com, a highly publicized and popular internet community and award-winning web magazine. Born into a family of artists, Valerie was educated at UCLA and combines her background in psychology, her keen eye for exquisite design and detail, and over a decade of marketing and public relations experience into all her ventures. An artist, writer, web developer, marketing consultant, and visionary entrepreneur, Valerie is known by the business moniker, The Creative Soul®.

Valerie was deeply touched and inspired by her father, an artist and philosopher, and in his wisdom, creativity, and spirituality, she found the seed for both her web site and a series of Soulful Living® books. The passing of her father and mother and the traumatic events of 9/11 all proved to be catalyzing events from which were born Valerie's passionate interest in soulful living and her intense search for life's meaning. Deeply committed to the opportunities her web site and books have opened to her, Valerie's mission is to share her passion for soulful living and inspire and enhance the lives of others.

Entering its sixth year on the World Wide Web, SoulfulLiving.com has won accolades from the media and has been featured in numerous print publications, including Health and Fitness Magazine, Health magazine, The Los Angeles Business Journal, and Gospel Today magazine. As Meg Sanders, author of the book, The Good Web Guide to Mind, Body & Spirit, writes, "As soon as the homepage appears, you know you're in the hands of professionals…. Elegant, erudite, ambitious and sincere, this site sets the standard, but we've seen few others that even come close."

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