Do you believe in miracles? I do. I’ve experienced quite a few myself. In fact, the more present I become, the more miracles I see. After all, the universe is always talking to us. Whether or not we hear its wisdom is just a matter of whether we are paying attention.
In this month’s “Listening in With …,” I talk with Marianne Williamson, who knows a thing or two about miracles. At the moment, Williamson—best known as the successful spiritual author and lecturer who popularized A Course in Miracles—is running for Congress as an independent in California. She’s hoping to effect some miracles of her own in Washington, if her electorate gives her the chance.
One of her goals is to get the influence of money out of government, certainly no small change. She’s also working to establish a more humanitarian politics of consciousness. Will she get the nod on the June 3 primary, guaranteeing her a place on the ballot for November? (California’s top-two primary system puts all candidates on the same primary ballot, and the two with the most votes run against each other in November—regardless of party affiliation.) I know I won’t be the only out-of-stater watching the election results!
One quality that impressed me about Williamson is that despite her wildly successful career, she is undaunted about trying something new. Politics and social action have long been her passions, so she sees her run for Congress as a natural extension of who she is—and one she’s eager to embrace.
Many of us let fear hold us back when our heart tries to tug us in a new direction. The safe and familiar makes for a much more comfortable place to muck about. What if it’s too hard? What if I’m not very good at that? What if people laugh at me? What if my family disapproves? What if my spouse feels threatened? How am I going to pay for it? The questions will engulf us if we let them.
I remember a November day almost 14 years ago when my then-7-year-old daughter asked me if I’d made up my mind about something I was pondering. I told her no, I hadn’t yet decided. She asked me, with that amazing clarity that young kids are famous for, if I’d asked God what I should do. I assured her that I had, and that I knew I would receive an answer eventually, but so far all I could hear was static.
“Did you ask with your heart or with your head?” Sam then asked, with her most serious of expressions. I was so stunned at this Yoda-like question I didn’t have an immediate answer. “When God speaks to us, God speaks through our hearts,” she continued. “What you hear in your head is just your fear.”
I wish for each one of you the courage to always listen with your heart—and to say yes! to whatever guidance you then hear.
Katy Koontz, Editor