When the Miraculous Becomes the Norm

I’m sure I’ve used the title phrase before and I’m happy to report it well describes my experience now. Each day of this Orff Afrique Course offers another unexpected miracle— the Chief’s Ceremony on Monday, the Nunya Academy Kids’ Performance on Tuesday and today, a performance from a group from just across the border in Togo that ended with mind-boggling stilt walking, after some unique drumming/dancing on enormous drums that had a slight Taiko flavor, but West African style. 

 

When a person encounters the miraculous day after day, it goes far in building a vision of extraordinary faith in the possibilities of human beings. I’ve had—and continue to have— my proper portion of sadness and sorrow and struggle, all amplified these days by the deep grief and outrage over the lemming migration to my country’s suicide. But if I never read a newspaper or looked at a screen, my reality would not be a guaranteed miracle-per-day, it would come pretty close. 

 

And of course, I’m not talking about water to wine, oil lasting beyond its shelf-life, images of an ancient Virgin appearing. I’m talking about the little miracles of children discovering something worthy and beautiful in themselves, elders being comforted by piano music, teachers re-discovering their dormant child-like self in the Orff workshop. I’m talking about playing Bach every day and still being baffled how all those notes in exactly the right places found him and how he had the time and energy to write them down. I’m talking about going to shows of magicians, gymnasts, modern dancers in awe of what the mind and body can do. Going to poetry retreats in awe of what the heart can feel and express. Going to concerts in awe of what musicians can hear and play at levels of virtuosity and sublime expression so far beyond what I can ever reach. I’m talking about the 9-year- old boy I saw on Youtube addressing a group of lawyers and firmly reminding them of their job to save Social Security, Health Care, Veteran’s Benefits, Education Funding so he and his grandmother and mother and brother in the armed forces can both live and thrive. I’m talking about the local doctor who came twice to look at a burn I got riding on the back of a motorcycle, applied toothpaste that drew the heat out (it worked!) and then reapplied later that night. He never charged a penny and I never filled out a single form. Oh, and he made a house call! Two of them!

 

As I’ve said before, living well and keeping the flame of hope lit, not from some naïve fantasy, but from proof day after day that we human beings are capable of both decent ordinary things and also extraordinary things, that there are thousands of remarkable people living humbly amongst us without Steph Curry’s salary or fame, but every bit as inspiring. 

 

I wonder what tomorrow will bring.