I’ve been making my way through the workbook of A Course in Miracles over the past few months. This is my third, and furthest attempt in doing so.
When I was making my way from Atlanta to New Orleans in 2010, I met a woman by the name of Cleopatra. I tripped out because there was a headline on a magazine in the seatback in front of me with that read: Cleopatra goes to Philly. I surely took this as a sign, and it’s strange to go back, because I’ve done it so much, yet each, time when I’m reminded to this day of such occurrences, wow, all the wow.
That time of my life was one full of loss and uncertainty. All I knew was that I was searching and trusting that The Creator had something envisioned because my thinking that I knew, revealed how little knowing I actually I had.
We began talking when Cleopatra asked me if I was carrying a Bible as we waited in line for the dining car of our Amtrak train. The book I held was my first moleskine, as I flew through the journal I brought with me. I’ve since filled many a moleskine and other journal, but in those days, as the a-ha’s struck me left and right, I couldn’t help but bear my soul.
As we were seated together, we talked about spirituality because in bearing my soul I shared that I was on a spiritual journey. And it was cool because, whenever I did, I’d find that the conversation reflected back somehow in the life of the person I encountered.
It was no different with this woman, who spoke from a place, I’ve since witnessed and felt, many a time over. Somehow, the conversation came to A Course in Miracles, and I’d shared how I had once started but not completed it:
That was her response.
If it came into your life, it came into your life for a reason.
She continued. Our conversation and meal together would conclude and we’d go our separate ways. New Orleans would be transformative and that portion of my journey, so necessary in helping me to keep having, and most of all, walk in Faith.
Yesterday was day 77 of ACIM for me. I can’t say why I started it again, but here I am, wading along through it and day 77 brought me this bold statement:
I am entitled to miracles.
I mantra’d this, I reflected on this throughout the day and last night, the reply came through quite vividly in a dream.
I was looking for a pair of surf shorts in the darkness and as I walked, I moved past a foul smell. I found something and was about to leave when I decided it was not needed and returned to put back what wasn’t needed. At first I wanted to put it on another rack but I’m nearly always compelled to replace things where I found them at stores because I’ve worked in stores and had to put things back that others left behind, or didn’t want. I didn’t want anyone to have to clean up after me so I went back to where I began and the smell was gone but there was something on the floor that I could make out in the darkness. I replaced the shorts and scooped to pick up what was on the floor: a $20 bill with writing from an Aunt. As I walked, the noted bill became a letter, which for some reason had contained a check I’d never seen for $700, which then became a photo of my family, but with a displaced timeline, as my brother is not yet full grey, nor does he have the hair as seen in the photo. As I was walking I ended up at a shore, where a Japanese man was teaching my Inner Child to fish. The man called my Inner Child to him: Jason, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. I walked to them both and knelt before my Inner Child, who had my eyes much older, but with a face, that was me much younger. I couldn’t help but embrace my Inner Child, telling him how much I loved him and how sorry I was for the mistakes I made that caused us both hurt.
I know, the wise child told me. It’s okay.
Then I woke.
I take this dream as a miracle because so often do we struggle with loving and forgiving ourselves. I’m just stoked to be a witness to the beauty that is the The Creator’s Dream.