Updated: Apr 24
Stirring from a deep sleep, it takes me a moment to acclimate. Oh, yeah, I'm not in my bed, and the person sleeping next to me is my daughter. The memories of the previous evening come flooding back in as if they were a distant dream. The love and magic of the night surround me again as I lay here listening to my daughter's gentle breath. The evening had been dreamy and surreal. My daughter had organized a "Crone's Ceremony" for me with all of my female loved ones who just happened to be in town for my wedding. Instead of a drunken bachelorette celebration, she had invited our friend "The Blond Shaman" to lead a beautiful outdoor ceremony on Lake Michigan's beachfront, next to a fire. Now she lay next to me, deep asleep. Sleeping was a luxury she was not used to enjoying with her two little ones. So as not to disturb her, I gently pulled myself out of the coziness of the bed.
Today is my wedding day. Wow, I'm going to get married again! Feeling my body tighten, I remember how adamant I once was that I would never marry again, but here I was twelve hours away from saying "I Do" once more. The crone contemplating her wedding day was a million miles away from the twenty-year-old who said those words the first time around. So many storms, loss, and life lessons had torn a gaping valley between whom I was and who I am now.
The essential difference was my acceptance of my gifts; last night was a celebration of how those gifts had magically sprinkled the people in my life. I make a mental note, "It's always about the magic." The young me had a very different connotation regarding magic; I now understand it to be my creative force's orchestration. This orenda innately resides in each of us, and it is our connection to All That Is, or what I call God. With gentle allowance, we can learn to witness the orchestration of this force. As I observe these flittering thoughts, I hear the soft sound of raindrops hitting the window. Looking up, I notice that the sky is beginning to lighten. I walk over and gaze out the sliding door at Lake Michigan's indigo vastness, watching the wind rustling the trees nearby. As chills run down my spine, I realize that my magical connection is at play in this very instance.
Quietly, I throw on some clothes and leave the hotel room in search of a morning beverage. It is early morning, and the hotel restaurant is not open yet, so I step out into the morning drizzle and jump into my car. Giggling to myself, I realize that the powerful intention I put forth last night had begun to unfold. I had spent the past three weeks worrying about the weather and temperature of this day. What I wanted was clear blue skies, a gentle breeze, mild temperatures, and low humidity. According to the forecasts I had been incessantly following, it would be clear, hot, and humid. The ceremony and reception will be outside, and that weather is not what I imagined for our perfect Blue Moon Wedding. At some point last night, as I walked away from the ceremony and back to my hotel room, I decided I was going to create the perfect day. I didn't even think that; there was no thought on fixing the weather or the temperature; I just looked up, gazing at the evening stars, and began talking to the sky.
To the unseen force, I said, “You know, we need a little wind to come up to bring in a few rain clouds to wash away the heaviness in the air. Just an early morning drizzle and then a sustaining breeze from the north will do the trick.”
Now, as I watch the sunrise, the rain begins to clear, and a gentle breeze is left in its wake. This is way cool; there had been no mention of precipitation in the forecast, but here it is, and I am "awake" to witness it. I say a prayer of gratitude and proceed on my coffee quest. The tight schedule for the day is beginning to wrap a nose around my chest. I gotta get a move on if all is to be ready in time. Someone yells out, "It's Time for the Moon to Rise," hearing this, the group moves outside of the tent and towards the beach. Mark has already wondered out, so I find myself strolling the lawn by myself. This moment is enchanted; the magic in the air is palpable. I can only remember two other times that I have experienced this feeling. Once when I witnessed my second grandson come into this dimension, and the other time was when I felt my father's essence swish through me at the time of his transition. Two transcending moments, was this moment in some way a spiritual transition? As I watch the moon rise over the lake, a million dragonflies descend on the scene. I feel swirling as if I am being transported to another time or space. There seems to be a purple haze surrounding and permeating everything around me. I remember that this same purple haze had been present at my grandson's birth. An eminent profound shift is what I am sensing.
"A Miracle is a minuscule change in one or more of life's variables."
The wedding ceremony was divine, and the weather was amazingly perfect. I couldn't have imagined a more holy and perfect moment. I gaze up from my thoughts and look around to notice if anyone else is on this journey with me. I see Mark now, and his eyes are glazed over with joy; I sense that he is experiencing his own special moment. Does anyone else notice that a million dragonflies are hovering about 10 feet above the moon-gazing gathering? This scene is so crazy; what's happening? Was it last night's crone ceremony or the vows I just took with Mark? What has opened this magical purple portal? Mark and I have never spoken of our intentions as a couple, but I know that we both have life intentions of living in peace and harmony. Neither of us entered into this marriage with the naïve notion that we would be merging two families. Our children are grown, and our families have their distinct history and memories, which our new relationship cannot alter. But here we are, the two families and friends gathered together in a harmonious magical moment, and I just experienced a time warp or shift in dimension. A few friends walk over and begin congratulating me on our wedding and commenting on how lovely the moon and the evening are. Their voices jolt me back. Slowly the magical moment fades as all awakenings do. The residual effects to be reflected on and remembered in days to come, yet never quite being able to experience the magic of the moment or adequately describe it. Somewhere in the back of my awareness, I know that there is something yet to come. Then just two days later …