Hope in everyday

Oh, I was wondering why my shoe felt weird, I had a penny in my sock (I have no idea.)

I once heard that four-leaf clovers could be found in any patch of clover. And so I looked and I found them pretty regularly. Then I gradually stopped, it's been years since I've found one, perhaps it seemed silly or greedy. I haven't looked since the early 2000's. In the past week or so, I've begun to casually glance again. I don't know what it would mean to find one. Maybe just to flex the naturalist muscles to pick out birds or plants or mammals in the wild.

I'm trying to move away from my magical thinking that makes up meaning where there isn't any; the part of me that waits for passage in a long abandoned train station...if I only believe enough or wait long enough. Hope is in the everyday, the here and now. I have to keep being reminded of that. Before I ever walked the Camino de Santiago in Spain, I had read stories with big, exciting miracles and I thought I wanted that. As I've written elsewhere, I did have a miracle, not big, not exciting, but transformative all the same. It had to do with everyday life, with trust. And trust can be hard, it's hard to let go of control of how I think things should be or what I think I want. Walking back from the mucky Fill today, I was reminded of that. Sometimes what is here is enough.