I must share my immense gratitude this morning. I write this with sleep-filled eyes and pillow-mashed hair. And a huge smile on my face.

I woke at 5AM. Too hot? Downtown train’s brakes extra squealey on the tracks? A cat pushed open the door? Whatever it was, I awoke to find my mind already engrossed in deep conversation with itself (panicked babbling, rather) about Wednesday. Wednesday, you see, is the first day I will be offering workshops in my new writing space, The Writers’ Room at Allen House and in my semi-conscious state at 5AM, Wednesday and everything I still have to get done loomed suddenly very large.

And my muddling little monkey mind, eager for occupation at that early hour, latched onto one thing in particular: Lighting.

Round and round it went, that silly old monkey: What about the lighting? It’s getting darker in the evenings and we have the motion detectors but something needs to be on all the time. Can motion detector lights be turned to be just on? The porch and deck lights will be on, will that be enough? It needs to be light enough for people to walk down the driveway. Surely motion detectors can be adjusted… on and on and on, he went. In England it’s called “mithering” – to fuss about something. Mither. Mither Mither.

Finally I got out of bed to try to escape this brain rattle. I could nothing about the lights at 5AM and I couldn’t go back to sleep. They  was only one thing I could do. Get out my journal, of course. It only took me a few minutes of writing to remember that we actually have a beautiful lamp at the end of our driveway (a neighbor called it a Harry Potter lamp but I think it is more reminiscent of the lamp in Narnia). It was here when we bought the house and I thought it a lovely, but kind of pretentious, addition to our humble front lawn. We rarely turned it on. And then one day we flipped the switch and nothing happened. We were curious what had happened but, oh well, no great loss. For four years that lamp has remained dark.

But, this morning I pondered on my journal page if we could look at it again, maybe get an electrician to see what was wrong. Then I (finally!) moved on from thinking about lighting to considering my potential students. I pondered whether I needed to do some more last minute promotion to fill out my numbers and decided yes, BUT also to allow myself to know that if someone needs to find my workshops, they will. So I did a little envisioning exercise where in my mind’s eye my cozy space was filled with writing, chatting, connected people. And at the end of my driveway the Narnia lamp was glowing brightly.

When I opened my eyes, I thought, what the heck? I walked over to the light switch which hasn’t been touched in four years. I flipped it. From the corner of my eye, through the crack in the curtain I thought I saw a touch of yellow. Just been a car’s passing headlight?  It had to be? But no. When I whipped back the curtain, sure enough the lamp was glowing brightly in the dawn’s grayness. And I beamed as brightly as it did.

I know – such a small thing in the scheme of things. And there are probably a dozen explanations why a lamp that hasn’t worked in years should suddenly do so this very morning, but I am choosing to believe – because I do know these things happen – that envisioning is a powerful thing. For one thing, I have long envisioned our neglected “guest house” one day converted into a writing space and here it is, open and ready for students to come join me! So whatever the reason the lamp decided to light up, I will say “Thank you!”

And Monkey Mind, you can go back to sleep now because All is Well, All is Well, and All Shall be Well.

Prompt: When have you experienced a “miracle”?

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Workshop info in post below and at the Events tab above.