I wrote the piece "Burnished Love" for Agape International Spiritual Center's publication Inner Visions. I've been contributing every month ever since I became a licensed spiritual practitioner in 2009. When I write, I am always aware that I am ministering to my own soul. Spirit is revealing exactly what I need to hear. In this instance, Spirit spoke directly to me, addressing me - and the world at large. We are each the Beloved. We have come for such a time as this. 

Where there is great love there are always miracles.
Willa Cather

Who so loves believes the impossible.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

​Dear Beloved,
​
Here we are together, love-light streaming across lifetimes and through galaxies and celestial bodies. We dip and burst, spin and bounce, unfurl and swirl. Delicately, intricately bound. Splendidly woven. Connected. I have always been with you. You are my dearest companion. I will continue to be with you – in sickness and in health, in goodness and in grace, until forever and beyond eternity.

“Why is this so?” you ask.

​​Exhibit A.
How the celebrations began one week ago: tarte tartin on Thursday. 

Keep reading for Exhibit B.
How the celebrations wrapped up: a mysterious bouquet of flowers delivered on October 26, my birthday.

I've long observed that when it comes to the people I encounter in my life there are usually three (not six!)  degrees of separation. Still, I did a double take when I saw this configuration of speakers on the registration page of The Dalai Lama Global Vision Summit. I've never met Dr. Villoldo, but we have previously appeared side-by-side. Sorta.

This morning I happily drove to pick up copies of The New York Times featuring an article about Amandla’s friendship with fellow actor Rowan Blanchard. Ahead of me was a very large man – in height and girth – who purchased half a dozen magazines.
 
“Would you like a bag with that?” asked the newsstand man.
 
“No, thanks,” replied the customer.
 
I placed my five hefty issues of the Sunday Times on the counter and handed him my credit card. He rang up my purchase. Silence. “May I have a bag please?” I asked.
 
“Sure,” he said, reaching for a white plastic bag behind him and placing the  papers inside.
 
I immediately launched into my default way of being and interacting in the world, a tactic I think I learned, perhaps unconsciously, from my mother. I engaged him.

1. Heading out the door to Agape the last Sunday in February aka Black History Month.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock or are sulking in the sunshine state after a recent demotion, you’ve probably noticed that the Vermont senator has been keeping really good company as of late. We’re talking A-listers and Forest Gump-like historical figures.

Among my favorite situations and stars: In a therapy session with Tony Soprano and Dr. Melfi. Bear-hugging from behind a topless Janet Jackson as pictured on the cover ofRolling Stone. Astride the motorcycle on the album cover of Prince’s “Purple Rain.” Off to one side as the Sex and the City cast — everyone except for Kim Cattrall, that is — yuks it up over Cosmopolitans. Get it?

I, too, joined in on the fun.