We tend to think of a miracle as something that occurs outside of ourselves and denotes “difference” from our daily movement through time and space. And in grasping onto the illusion that miracles are something we wait for, something we scoff at, or something that must be granted, we lose the true miracle of the present moment. Often mired in worry and concern, we cease to see what we have is so very transitory and precious. Right now, I marvel that thoughts slip from mind, through my fingers, to tapping keys, running onto a page that could be read by souls I may never meet. That is both a miracle and a blessing.