Tuesday, April 6, 2010

The Martin Guitar & Miracles


A little over a month ago my husband sold his Martin guitar to a music shop.  He did so because he wanted to surprise me with the ability to buy a plane ticket to Iowa because I had been invited there (for the second time) to teach Vedic Meditation but we didn't have the funds for me to go.  When he handed me the cash, I was surprised and immediately asked him "where did this come from".  He hesitated and then began to explain that because his thumb had been bothering him, he wasn't playing his guitar and .... at that point I burst into tears.  

That guitar had been part of our courtship.  That guitar was part of our "Shasta Circle Singers" early in our marriage when we would invite friends over on a Sunday afternoon for barbecue potluck and cheap entertainment of playing and singing.  That Martin guitar, for me, wasn't just a symbol of creativity, it was creative action.

I went to the shop, money in hand, but the owner said he had already promised it to a customer and refused to sell it back to me.  As he spoke, I was staring at the case, on a high shelf.  I left in tears.  Later that afternoon, our car broke down and the money was used to pay for the repairs.  So much for the plane ticket.

The next day I was in a better place about it and realized that of course, all things happen for all reasons.  I shared the story with fellow students in Adele Slaughter's Prosperity & Abundance workshop.  The response I got was overwhelming and sweet.  One student said "I wish you had said you needed a ticket, I can help you with that, I have tons of frequent miles from my days as a model."  Ting! I had a ticket to Iowa.  It was so amazing and in working with her on the logistics I felt that I also had a collaborator - she and I were both doing our part to teach Vedic Meditation

For me the whole experience was a lesson in allowing others to be instruments of abundance and a reminder that I am not the source.

While this lesson in source might be considered a small miracle or perhaps not one at all, there is a second part to this story that lives up to the title of the post.  I'll share that tomorrow.

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