#CarmilaWest

[dwjensen]

Of imperfect Miracles:

November 23, 2017

I can never really state with any amount of truth that perfection has been one of my goals in life. I remember reading or hearing somewhere that certain religious artisans go to great lengths to ensure that their divine depictions contain deliberate imperfections so as to not offend their Deity whom they believe is the one true perfection. Whilst the religious benchmark may appear extreme, the other side of the coin is just as stark and more commonplace in most individuals. The bar heights of our lives that we set for ourselves and the self condemnation we feel when we err and summarize that we are “not good enough” or “not worthy enough” in our efforts to achieve our own version of perfection.

[Drinking in Cape Hillsborough 11-16-2017]

 Until a few years ago, I had always blamed other people’s standards for this self-rebuke until I stumbled upon my own revelation that it wasn’t anyone else’s approval that I craved, but my own. Like the Curlews that are now calling for company in the morning’s early light, I pleaded for my own sense of self to allow for my errors to reunite with my present and to let go of a story that would only mould the shape of my future into a sequel of my past. This was a work in progress until recent times when circumstance limited my future and made the past seem somewhat obsolete. I have since found the only other perspective that I thought I had; of “concentrating on the moment” can be not only just as damaging to my own fulfillment of life, but to my growth and understanding of this “life before death.”

 [11:11:17 Double Rainbow - Day of Victor Jensen’s visit]

Miracles can also share the same dubious examination, as if the dissection of events and reactions are purposefully put under a glass slide and diluted by circumstance and durability. Or perhaps miracles are simply personal and subjective, better left for the individual to enjoy and the Devine to manifest. Upon either side of an over-flipped coin simply lies our own truth. Perfect or imperfect, miracle or coincidence; the enjoyment of all aspects of my life now floats like a well-balanced boat in the calmest of my emotional currents. And this is why….

 The last several weeks have granted me so many of these perfect miracles that my heart, soul and gratitude almost need another host to redefine their ever-growing boundaries. The tears of joy that I have shed easily outweigh any new born nursery and my sense of self has required several over hauls just to cope with the beauty and wonder that this life has gifted me.

[Photo Credit: Veronica Wild]

I have finally reunited with all of my siblings. This was a dream, a prayer and a longing that now fulfilled, has placed a new definition of joy throughout my whole being. The renewal of wedding vows between Laurie and I saw again the perfect miracle of a love flowing from one heart to another while being witnessed by friends and family from both the local area and the other side of the planet. During the evening on the same night I was awarded a “Certificate of Appreciation” from the Queensland Ambulance Service for 28 years of service that was framed and installed with my badge and personal number. The sincerity of the words that were read to me that night was my professional miracle as I learned to receive such an honor.

[Photo Credit: Bec Bannan]

[Photo Credit: Caroline Pollitt] 

[Renewal CupCakes made with love by Karen Smith]

[11-22-2017 Graham Peady. The kind of friend who shows up with his mower and whipper snipper and tells you to ‘suck it up princess’. ]

And finally, yet never last, the visitations and gifts of time and assistance that so many friends and family have bestowed upon me these last few weeks have been innumerable. These are too many to narrate in a blog and would contain nothing of the sacrifice of their time and efforts to simply help me along this journey.

 The receiving has been very difficult for me to accept. Perhaps that old part of me; of us all who still regards ourselves as “not good enough” should simply receive the gifts as “imperfect Miracles” or maybe even tentatively, creep slowly forward into the truth and bathe in the wonder of yesterday, today and tomorrow. They contain the perfection and they perform the miracle.

 What have I learned and how will I play my part?

 It is my wish now to let everyone whom I hold dear to express my love and appreciation for them before my time is due. What greater gift can I bestow than the Perfect Miracle that I have been given.

[Carmila West sunrise, viewed from the back porch]