Tag: possibilities

The Magical and The Mundane

Driving out in the backcountry of Madison County, Alabama, near where I live, never disappoints. Just ahead and to my left across a field on a straight country road, the clouds had parted. Sun slivers filtered down through them like a scene from a science fiction movie. For a moment, I imagined being lifted up, joining a congregation of aliens who would send me back with all my superpowers revealed—everything suddenly feeling possible. Another thought that crossed my mind was the age-old reminder: behind every dark cloud, there’s a silver lining. It’s a comforting, almost cliché notion, but one that always gives me hope.

Yet, as I pondered these whimsical ideas, I couldn’t help but hear the voice of an old friend in my head, the one who would often point out, with a smacking of their lips, “They’re just clouds.” And maybe that’s true—maybe that’s all they are. But sometimes, I believe it’s about what we choose to see. Those clouds could be just that, or they could be the start of a story that feels as big and strange as the universe itself. It’s all in how you look at it. In the end, it’s not about whether those clouds are just clouds or something more. It’s about how we choose to see them or peel ourselves from the harsh reality of an overstuffed existence. Life is full of just ordinary moments, the mundane that we all pass by without a second thought. But within those moments, if we allow ourselves, there’s room for wonder, magic, and connection. Some cultures refer to these events as omens, others as divine whispers. It’s like the space between the clouds and the sunlight—there’s something in that gap, a glimpse of possibility, if we’re open to it.

So, maybe we’re all given little opportunities to “see” beyond the scene. Sometimes it’s a patch of light breaking through, other times, it’s simply choosing to imagine what’s not immediately visible. The mundane, when seen with the right eyes, can become something far more extraordinary. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the real magic.

With Angels and Ghosts

“Our feet are planted in the real world, but we dance with angels and ghosts.”

John Cameron Mitchell

A few months back I was going through the county land maps to check on some property line grids. On the map I saw there was an area marked for a cemetery, in the wooded area a short way across the field from the main house. I made a plan to explore the woods to find this mystery graveyard as soon as the wheat field was harvested. I love a good adventure.

About a week or so later, I arrived home to find the wheat fields shorn, with the spiky stems standing up like a high and tight haircut. This didn’t make for good hiking so I opted to drive across the field. I put a few tools in the back of the truck for clearing away brambles and we heading out. Traveling the perimeter of the field along the wood line we finally arrived at the area of woods that jutted out toward the house.

“How are you ever going to find a graveyard in there. It’s too thick, you can’t even see where it would be.” My wife said.

“I’ll know.” I replied.

A few minutes later, I stopped the truck, gazing into the depths of the openings between the trees. I felt I was in the right place.

“It’s in there,” I said. Ignoring the strange looks I was getting from my family.

A few minutes later we stood in the dark wooded canopy surrounded by an unkept array of grown over grave sites. I started with the one closest to me, clearing away the rich dark soil and overgrowth. It dated back to the 1800’s as did the second and third ones. There were more, we knew, but the light was leaving, so we departed with some photos.

Three days later a strange dog appeared on our porch. We knew by way of the security camera. The emaciated animal’s piecing eyes spoke to me on a soul level. Through his mottled slate gray coat and jutting bones, I saw something that held me. I instantly called him Ghost because I didn’t expect him to be around long. The name stuck and so did he. Once I realized that he might be on the scene I opted for a name change. Based on the proximity of time in which we had stood in the cemetery and the time he arrived at our door (three days) the names Jesus and Lazarus were suggested and immediately vetoed, as was Spectre.

So far Ghost is coming into his own and grown on us. His bones have disappeared beneath healthy weight and a deep glossy wood-gray coat. Looking like something straight from Egyptian tombs, he is uncommonly smart and intuitive, making me question his dogness. Ghost is an angelic messenger that even in the shadows of the stark reminder of death, joy is lurking.

Open your mind. Those things we see as impossibilities and improbabilities can turn into possibilities and even profits. Don’t hold back or you may be held back by your unwillingness to tread off the beaten paths. You are a pathfinder. Some of you know there are things that have been calling you for some time now. You know it. Now is a good time to get to know it by taking your foot off the brake and hitting the gas. Our experience with Ghost is another example of living life artfully, following the curiosities that lead to adventures that turn our existence into a creative practice. Taking us from survival mode to a life worth lifing. Yes, I did mean life-ing, not just living.