The Answer, my Friend, is Blowing in the Wind

The world is always looking out for us. I find it hard to believe in circumstance when I have narrowly missed life-threatening natural disasters at least four times.

Had I not traveled to Nepal in November and December 2014, perhaps I would have been there in April 2015 when three record-setting earthquakes shattered the country’s resources and killed over 4,000 people. Had I chosen to climb Mount Kinabalu, as planned, rather than travel to Brunei and fly to the Philippines, then perhaps there would have been 17, instead of 16, trekkers killed on the top of the summit during the earthquake that struck at the beginning of June. If I hadn’t been robbed in the Philippines, maybe I would have continued to camp on beaches in the Philippines and Indonesia, and maybe something much more traumatizing would have happened to me. After that experience, and the beginning of the rainy season, I booked my flight out of the Philippines early, and maybe, just maybe that would have put me on the wrong boat that day in June when cyclones hit and 32 people drowned. After all, I was on the same sea, traveling not too far away. If I stayed in Indonesia I would be coping through the massive forest fires that are currently ravishing the nation - particularly in Kalamatan – where seasonal field burning has become the latest nightmare.

I seem to float along like a feather carried by the wind. Although I don’t know where I am going, the wind does. It takes me high above all of the coral reefs, over the volcanoes, through the fiords, and away I go. Carelessly free and floating on the back of this invisible force that seems to hold all harm at bay.

Let Go and Miracles Follow

I believe that there are signs from God, and miracles every day. Some stand-out in my mind because I feel their significance in the moment. One of the most challenging things in my journey has been to let go of my need to control, ask questions, get answers, move forward in my time and my motion. The flow is Gods flow, and the hardest part is not only not having any say or control in the matter, but also not having any idea where the flow goes. I just have to blindly trust that the flow goes to goodness and it will be perfect for me. Holy crap what a hard kind of trust to have in a belief. Blind faith, is what its called. Not because faith is blind, but because people who have blind faith can walk with their eyes closed and know that no matter how rocky it is they will never trip. Sure-ism. That's what blind faith is, and its way more powerful than optimism. Imagine that. I'm not optimistic that everything has goodness, that love is the most powerful thing in the world, that I can get exactly what I want and need in this life just by being a good and loving person. No... I'm not optimistic, I'm sure. I have 100% faith in it. Nothing is impossible, but sometimes it feels impossible to keep the eyes on the prize, on the possible end result, on the Glory, and the dawn. To slowly, but surely, lock my eyes closed and walk forward with confidence in my feet and a smile on my face.

The other day I was in Nha Trang, VietNam. It's a great island and beach town, and I meant to take full advantage of it to rest, restore, and swim. While there I had spoken with some people in passing, and the vibe was really negative. They said something about me losing my camera or having it stolen, and I said how terrible that would be since it has all of my 3,000 photo and video memories from the last 6 months. For some reason, that thought of losing my camera and how terrible it would be remained distantly in the back of my head. I brushed off the feeling this conversation gave me and I moved on.

I always recognize when I say that something is horrible or terrible, and I always try to eliminate those words from my language. I remember, God says "Did you say terrible? You haven't seen anything yet!" Just the same as he says "Amazing? You haven't seen anything yet!"

Wording things positively, no matter how "unrealistic" people might call me, is my main goal. You can blow all of your notions of "unrealism" out of your mind. That is what makes you, you, and me, me. I know there is no such thing as "realism" or "unrealism" or being either of those things. Realism is a cloaked dagger to the heart of positive thinking. I tell myself, no matter what your reasoning mind might say, have faith in God, and believe blindly in His goodness. Now everything is beautiful and perfect. Realism can go find someone else to bother. My thinking is that, I can be realistic all I want, but as soon as being realistic conflicts with being positive, thats when I know that reason is steering me wrong.

Not but a few days after this brief and negative encounter, some Dutch friends I made and I took a boat tour called the Funky Monkey tour. Complete with hysterical live music, suntanning, island beach, snorkeling, beer, and a buffet seafood lunch. All for $10. Perfect day. The sun was the strongest it had been, and I was loving every second of it. When it came time to go snorkeling, I grabbed my trusty waterproof camera, wrapped the cord around my wrist and jumped in the water with the other girls. We swam away from the boat, adapting to the rush of cold turning to warm, while the guys working on the boat threw us all life rings so we could float around if we wanted. I didn't want one because I prefer to swim, but I caught it and was wrapping it around my arm when I noticed that the camera attached to the cord on my wrist was gone. The durable cord I had used for 6 months on land, sea, air, and all kinds of adventure travel, had snapped in the ocean.

Oh. My. God. This can't be real. My world travel adventure alone, where all I have are my memories, what I take with me, and no way to share with anyone else, and all of those things I might have forgotten but captured anyway. All of the videos of dancing with strangers, speeches from tour guides, and weird cultural experiences. All gone. No longer tangible. This can't be real.

I looked around in the water with a horrified urgency on my face and in my movement. The water was not clear. It was 10ft deep and I could swim to the bottom, but because I couldn't see in front of me my lungs panicked at the possibility of not resurfacing, and I couldn't swim too deep because of it. I lost it. I lost it. It's gone.

I told the guy on the boat, and asked him to help me look for it. I don't give up without a fight. There were scuba divers present because some people paid extra for it. I asked the tour guide if a scuba diver could look for it. He said yes, but that if they find the camera I have to pay them. If you find it, I will give you everything in my wallet I will be so happy. It will be better than paying for a new camera! And those photos and videos are literally priceless to me.

It took 10 minutes for the diver to be ready, and I felt myself asking, is he coming, is he coming, we only have 45 minutes here. I had a foot tapping, impatient sense of urgency.

Eventually the diver was ready and I pointed him in the direction I was swimming. There was no current at the time, aside from surface boats, so I had hope he would find it. My heart was entirely engulfed in the camera, I was trying to control the situation, the panic, the finding of it. I was trying to make it happen. I was like a neurotic mom with five kids at Disney World. "Okay now everyone form a single file line, hold hands! and don't make any faces in the picture."
Oh yeah, pictures. Pictures I won't be able to take wit my waterproof camera that won't be able to go under water anymore.
I took hold of myself when I realized what danger my actions and words were ensuing because of my effort to force the situation. I have to let go of this, it's not the end of the world, what is meant to happen will happen. After this thought, one of the girls I traveled with came up to me and said something about, oh poor me, I hope they find it.

It's the fucking ocean. I've been on the ocean my whole life. Lost thousands of things, found none of them.

I ignored the negativity, I knew that I had to reverse what I had said and done to force my will onto this situation. I think he'll find it. It's easy to look for things with scuba gear, theres no current, and it's only 10 ft deep. I'd find it myself if I had scuba gear but they said that I'd have to pay for it. I'm not worried. I'm actually pretty sure they'll find it. All of the factors say yes. Surism is stronger than optimism.

I kept saying stuff like that to myself. 20 minutes passed, and no such luck. The diver went down before I could describe the camera or the location. The diver was circling the whole area, but not where I told him to. All of these factors - I want to fix this. I need to talk to him but he's below the water. I can't do anything. I have to just sit. I realized that what I needed to do was swim. Release the stress and literally remove myself from the situation and let go of my control and my need. I was on a tour, and I love to swim, I shouldn't waist this time worrying and not enjoying. It's out of my hands. Exploring the water while I wait couldn't hurt anything.

I swam far and fast until the boat was distant from my sight and I was almost to shore where the reef could be see from a surface level. I was thinking the whole time, its not the end of the world. I said a prayer out loud if I am meant to have it then it will come back to me, if I am not meant to have it then I don't want it. God returns to me what is mine or replaces it with something better. I said this over and over. Until finally I was used to the idea. I could get a new camera. I can let go of these photos and videos. I have my memory. I have other pictures and things that I've kept. I have my diary, my heart, and my experiences. It's okay. What's meant to happen will happen. Que sera sera.

I looked down in my breast stroke and saw the ocean bottom. I saw that it was jagged and rocky, and it occurred to me, the diver was looking all around the area as if there was a current, but there is no current and the bottom is rocky. My camera is there. He'll find it. I became sure of it. Absolute blind faith. I have no room for doubt because the time for hope is now, and the time for mourning is later or never. Now determines that. Suddenly I had a really strange feeling that might sound a little crazy. I felt like a shark was swimming up to me. I was alone and my bodily reflex jerked around to look into the water. Nothing. I knew there was no shark but I felt like I was being chased, I felt like I had to get out of there and swim back to the boat. 

I returned to the boat just as a new diver was going in to look for my camera. The first diver was tired and didn't find anything. I pointed directly where I landed in the water and said right there. Then I watched the diver go under, because I thought it looked cool and I wanted to see if I could remotely see the bottom. I had no concerns. I had hope, but not grasping onto to it. I was just hanging out and enjoying the day. That's when it happened. ARISEEEEEEEEE SCUBAAA SAINT!! Through the foggy water I saw a flash of the bright orange from my camera and up rises the scuba diver having rescued it from the rocky depths. 

Holy crap! This is a miracle! This is a miracle! I took the camera and thanked them. I wanted to hug them or kiss them but both of the scuba divers disappeared to undress from their swim gear. After I established that the camera still worked just fine (after 30 minutes under water!!), I put it away and the tour guide told me what I had to pay. Something like 500,000VND At least 5 days of food for me. But I remembered what I said and I said it several times. I told the tour guide I wanted to thank the divers. They came and found me, and when they did I emptied my wallet without counting it. I complain too much about money. I'm too desperate for it to maintain my appropriate budget, to complete this journey in the time and manner I want. This was one of many lessons God was giving me. To let go. To trust that I will be provided for. To not give power to money, or my plan - the power is completely in the hands of God. Let go and let God, that's what that is. Let go of my own plan for life, and let God do His work. I can just sit back and be in awe of the miracles that occur and the goodness that finds me.

Absolutely perfect day.

Greek Hospitality Part Dyo (2)

There is something about coming to Greece that feels like home to me. The three main draws are; the warm loving people, the grandparents (which essentially define Greek hospitality), and of course the church – whether I attend or not, I always feel at home surrounded by the old Byzantine.

My dad and I traveled together from Morocco, to Malta, to Thessaloniki Greece. We unite on our love and yearning for understanding of spirituality and the Orthodox Church, so we both arrived in a state of excitement and homeliness. 

To understand the preface to my second visit in Greece this year, we’ll travel back to the 1980s with our mustaches and mullets and take a peak into the life of my dad. Back in the 1980s, when, my dad was studying at Hellenic College, he became friends with his neighbor in the dormitory. The friend’s name was Billy Bakos. They were fast friends, and partners in crime for life. Billy served as my dad’s best man at my parents’ wedding, which, in Greek Orthodox tradition, makes him an honorary member of the family and grants the Greek title of Koumbaro between he and my family. It’s an important title for Greeks, like the importance of godparents in some cultures. Since that wedding, Mr. Bakos traveled to a place called The Holy Mountain, also called Agio Oros in Greek.  The Holy Mountain is an island peninsula in the region of Helkidiki, an hour and a half outside of the northern capital city of Thessaloniki in Greece. The island is home to 22 different Orthodox Christian monasteries where thousands of monks live, and where pilgrims come from all over the world. I have never been since women are not allowed on The Mountain for a few different reasons, which I understand and appreciate. I want my own island anyway. When Billy Bakos traveled to the Holy Mountain for the second time in his life, he moved there and became a novice for three or four years before being tonctured (blessed as) a monk.  From then on, we would all reverently call him Father Iakovos - he is even featured on a 60 Minutes documentary discussing the Holy Mountain, if you are interested in learning more.

http://www.cbsnews.com/news/mt-athos-a-visit-to-the-holy-mountain/

Fast forward: Father Iakovos has been a monk at the monastery of Simonopetra, on the Holy Mountain, since before I was born. Over the years he maintained a connection with my family and during the last couple of years the Greek Orthodox Metropolis of Boston had the blessing of hosting Fr. Iakovos for a whole year in an effort to start a monastery in New England. A whole community of children, and families came together loving him and welcoming him, and now I am one of thousands of his spiritual children in America. He really has touched so many lives, and I feel blessed to have any relationship to him. Since he left to return to the Holy Mountain, I have missed him a great deal, and have always found his presence to be grounding for me.

The monks of the Holy Mountain are under the obedience of their spiritual leader called the Abbot, or Yeronda in Greek – just the same as priests are under the obedience of their bishop. Monks, and nuns as well, must have the permission of the Abbot to travel - or to move somewhere else - and they may be denied permission according to where the Abbot sees their services needed. It was by the Grace of God that the Abbot at Simonopetra needed to send a priest to their church in Thessaloniki, and it just so happened that Fr. Iakovos was the man that he sent.

Now to the present: Several people greeted my dad and I when we arrived in Thessaloniki – Niko & Tina (a couple whom I met in 2006), Maria and Dimitri (friends of Father Iakovos), and, of course, our beloved Father Iakovos. They all took us out to dinner the way that Greek family members welcome their out-of-town relatives – a trapezi.

The three musketeers! Fr. Iakovos, my dad, and Niko (left to right)

The following couple of days Fr. Iakovos and Niko and Tina traveled with us to revisit the convent of Orymilia where I created strong connections during my first visit to Greece in 2006 The nuns made for us a lunch that was finer than any restaurant, and the heartfelt warmth and welcomnig made me feel right at home. My old friend, Sister Prosdoki, was able to visit with me for a brief period, holding my hand and catching up with one another. Just like the first time, I wished that our visit had lasted forever!

I also had the distinct honor of meeting His Eminence Metropolitan Barnabas of Neapoli and Stavropolio. My dad is friendly with Metropolitan Barnabas, and so we were able to have two short visits with him while we were in Greece. During the first visit, I couldn’t understand the conversation between my dad, Father Iakovos, and His Eminence Barnabas, because it was all in Greek. But, I felt all of the emotions in the room. I was so moved by the warmth, the way that His Eminence was teaching through his example, and the amount of love in the room, that I was moved to tears during most of the visit. Rather than made to feel embarrassed by my tears, my expression of emotion was communication enough for Hi Eminence and we instantly connected without words. Father Iakovos simply told His Eminence that I was moved by the loving kindness of his nature. During our second visit I was far better composed and was able to communicate my feelings about love and God with the help of some translation. When my dad and I made our final goodbye before flying to Turkey, Metropolitan Barnabas hugged and kissed me, and sent me tons of blessings.

Its an amazing thing, meeting people like Sister Prosdoki, Father Iakovos, Metropolitan Barnabas, or my friend Maria who I visited later in the week. Kind people simply emanate warmth. It can’t be described as anything other than love, goodness, the Holy Spirit. I can feel the spirit full in them, it overflows, and it washes over me so that I feel filled as well.

His Eminence Barnabas and me

After some guy-time with Father Iakovos, and my dad, the men headed off to the Holy Mountain and I was left alone in Thessaloniki for four days. I absolutely loved it! I had the fantastic opportunity to spend time with my buddy Maria who I met when I studied abroad in Spain two years ago, and I also became better acquainted with some Greek American boys who came from Hellenic College in Boston to study abroad in Thessaloniki.

Greek hospitality truly is a bottomless pit of abundance, and in that way it emulates the spirit of love.

I cannot even count the hours on hours of time spent sitting around with my friends, and their friends, drinking tsiporo (Greek moonshine), and laughing together. I learned a lot of Greek, and communication was never a problem, even with Maria’s friends who didn’t speak English. Every time I went out with Maria, or the Greek Americans from the University, everyone insisted on paying for me. Being the out-of-towner, Greek hospitality designates that my local friends have a responsibility to show me a good time, make me happy, and not let me spend a cent. Of course, I don’t take advantage of that by any means, but the Greeks are just the gift that keeps on giving.

I even had the honor of going outside of Thessaloniki to visit Maria’s grandparents in their village, and see the local dance group perform original Greek dances from the region. Yiayia even played along with me when I asked her to read my fortune in my cup after drinking Greek coffee. She and I agreed that we don’t take fortune telling from coffee cups too seriously, but it was interesting to learn from her. I felt like I was welcomed like a long lost relative. I could have lived there and hiked the nearby mountains for days if I had more time. If there is anything Greek, it’s impossible for me to feel out of place.

My time in Greece was perfectly timed, and I didn’t spend more than a half of a day doing anything touristic. I enjoyed parea (companionship) with friends, tons of food, heart-to-hearts, and beautiful people. There is nothing better than going where your people are. My people are definitely Greek. There have been a few other times on my journey where I have felt ‘among my people’ like in Munich, and all over Ireland. (Coincidentally, I am a small part German, and Irish.)

But, so far in my journey, no one does it quite likes the Greeks do. Yasas!

Giving and Receiving in Life and Travel

“Why worry? What is meant for you is always meant to find you.” – Indian poet-saint Lalleshwari

One of the challenges of getting started on a grand adventure, or feeling ‘settled’ or ‘comfortable’ in every day life, is money, and worry.

Everyone I know always has something to say about money. I need it, I want it, I don’t have it, I spend it, it was given to me, etc. Everyone has some kind of feeling about the precious dollar bill.

Although I have always had what I needed, and then some, I have always worried about money. Having enough, making enough, not making any so making sure that I save enough.

Enough for…? Well, to make my wildest dreams come true of course! For my babies that I don’t have, my house that I don’t currently want, my furthering education that I haven’t yet decided on, and the big move that I know I will some day make.

A finite truth, in this life, is that money is freedom. A common misconception, in my opinion, is that money is power. Debate that as you wish, but one thing for sure is that nothing has power in one’s life unless one gives it the power. And what that means, is that when a person gives power to their fears or worries, it becomes the rule of their life. It’s true for anything or anyone in life. For a long time, my holding, saving, and carefully spending, was my way of giving money the power. I hoarded it for myself to rid myself of negative feelings that came from the possibility of lack. Money had the power to make me worry, fear, and sometimes to miss out on what I wanted. When I gave gifts I felt immense join, but always accompanied by worry for the shortage that might come afterwards.

But there never was a shortage. The more I gave of my time, and my money, the more I received those things from others tenfold. The more I said I would have no money, the truer it became. The more I lived as if there wouldn’t be a shortage, the more plentifully I received in the exact way that I wanted or needed.

The less I worried and feared, the less I would encounter things that I had previously worried and feared about.

The trick has become thus; trust in the Universe - trust in the Lord, trust in God – and the supply of the Divine will be endless. God is a bottomless pit of goodness, rightness, wealth, health, and happiness and He/She gives it out freely. All I have to do is ask. In fact, all I have to do is say what I want to be true and give love and gratitude to the world around me while expecting nothing in return. “Fake it till you make it.” (Pretend to be healthy, full of love, happy, abundant, and eventually your life will be made into that. It is tricking the ego into not worrying or fearing by convincing deepest desires – the ego – that it is satisfied. And so satisfaction will be thus.) At least, that’s the method I’ve been trying, and so far, God’s supply has never been short for my Path of Life’s demand. “Knock and the door shall be opened unto ye. Seek and ye shall find” – Bible, Matthew 7:7.

But, “When you knock, [make sure to] ask to see God… not any of the self-appointed intermediaries.” – Henry David Thoreau

The Bible says, “Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap” – Bible, Galatians 6:7. Meaning, whatever one says, or does in this life will return to them. (Karma.)

The message, when it comes to worry and fear, is to live as if it doesn’t exist. Concern for worries or fears attracts or brings on more worry or fears. Instead, I try to take all the power away from it. My concern has always been money, and so to get rid of that concern, I must live as if I am rich! Giving to people left and right, buying what my heart says is needed or desired (with goodness and cheerfulness), and trusting in God to provide me with what is right and good in His time and according to His Perfect Goodness. Then I will be rich, always having what I need or want because, through the Grace of God, there is no alternative other than happiness and abundance. With no worry or fear, that’s what ya get.

In the Orthodox Christian Church we pray at a funeral or memorial for the reposed to live in a place where there is no “pain, sorrow, or suffering.” In this life, none of those things can exist if I give the power to God and not fear or worry. Evil is the word for fear, negativity, and worry. There’s no evil, if I don’t give those things the power over my feelings, my behavior, or my beliefs. Instead I have begun to try hard to hand over all of the power to the Will of God, and the Divine Plan. You cannot serve God (Perfect Goodness) and evil (worry/fear) at the same time. “Ye cannot serve two masters.” - Matthew 6:24

And so, I have begun to throw all caution to the wind. My life is blossoming with love, and fullness. I pray for God to open the way for great abundance, health, and happiness, and give me what is good and right that belongs to me according to His Will. Sometimes I pray for peace and patience, and for God to give me a sign that will help me relieve negative energy so that I can be filled with light.

The funny thing is, that it works. Prayer works, and not because I feel light and pretty afterwards. God literally gives answers that are tangible and solution based – that give me the exact sign or message I need at the exact right time to bring me what is perfectly good and right. Its not really what I think of or what I want, but it is always good and always what God demands I need.

“All things whatsoever ye ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive” – Matthew 21:22

“I tell you, you can pray for anything, and if you believe that you've received it, it will be yours.” - Matthew 11:24

In order to go on my around-the-world adventure, I had to completely release my hold on money. After all, I am going to spend all that I have, and probably more than I currently have, with no intention to work for money along the way.  I’ll volunteer in exchange for housing and food, but I haven’t considered working for money. I want to give of myself as much as I can, and having a job doesn’t feel like Divine Will, it feels like work for money. Its possible that having a job would be Divine Will but I am not seeking one. The right income will find me at the right time.

When I began my trip and people asked me why I would do it, one of their concerns was the money I would be spending. “Don’t you want to spend it on a house? Or save it for your wedding? Or your children?” As I said before, these were reasons I had always saved and attempted at frugality for. And isn't it selfish not to save for my children and their future? But, for some Divine reason, whenever someone asked me these questions, my automatic response was, ‘why worry? I have plenty of time to make it all back.’ Now if someone were to ask I would say the same thing, but I wouldn’t wonder at all why that was my automatic response. Worry is irrelevant. God will supply.

And, “There is a supply for every demand.” – Florence Scovel Shinn

In order to start my journey I had to release my hold on whatever was in my bank account. Seeing the number get bigger over years of odd jobs always made me happy. But now, seeing the number get smaller makes me feel like I haven’t wasted anything, I feel fulfilled and open to the Divine Plan. I haven’t hoarded any goodness. I’m sharing it with the world – and I believe that money is just as much a representation of the flow of goodness as tangible acts of kindness. Keeping, saving, hoarding, or not distributing money in some way feels vain or selfish now. Even saving for my (not yet existing) children feels that way. Of course they will have the right amount at the right time. I’m not the one who makes or breaks their future and neither is money. How can God supply if I don't always trust That He/She will?

But I’m finding also that, just as willingness to spend and keep the circulation of money and goodness flowing in the world can benefit my soul, so can receiving. I am a really bad receiver. I can't take a compliment, and I almost instantly refuse any and all spontaneous gifts offered to me. 'No, no, you keep it.' Or 'Let's split it.' Instead of, 'thank you, that's really sweet.'

“Never turn down a free meal.” – Nasser

A friend I made in Norway gave me the wise advice to never turn down a free meal, and I am taking it one step further. Just as I am meant to give, I am also meant to receive. Even when a poor man gives, I must imagine him prosperous and receiving tenfold, and that is how I can receive with gratitude and humility. Refusing a gift, for whatever negative reason (which it always is) blocks the Divine flow of goodness and leaves the person lacking even more than the gift they originally refused to recieve. Turning down a gift may be the same as ignoring God’s Will outright. How insulting! I think that, maybe, we are meant to receive because we are meant to be grateful, and how can one be grateful if one never accepts anything they are meant to receive? A humble and grateful heart will always receive as much as he/she gives – and so the pattern continues.

Traveling has opened my life to the cycle of giving and receiving – and in doing so I give up my hold on my life and my money. I try to surrender to the Lord, as one might say. And the only thing that I can absolutely expect without a doubt, is that whatever comes to pass will be good and right for me.

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An interesting anecdote occurred in my life after I had finished writing this blog entry. My mom and I arrived in Milan via train from Venice. After exiting the train station we walked to the taxi stand because we didn’t want to walk with our luggage in the rain. While in line, a man who was hard of hearing, was begging for money with a sad little dog that he kept in his carriage. I gave him some of my change thinking I need to give more and not hold onto goodness. A few minutes later I asked if I could pet the dog and he said a lot of things in Italian from which I gathered was something like “you have to pay me 2 Euro to pet me dog.” The gall on this guy, I thought. Annoyed with the man, at charging to pet his sad dog, and because I already paid him, I decided to just fain ignorance saying “I don’t speak Italian, I don’t understand” and move on. Shortly down the line (it was a rather long taxi line) I saw a woman in raggedy clothes begging for money. I thought, I already gave all my change to that guy and he turned out to give me a bad feeling... But I have to have faith that God provides. I have a few Euros, and why would I hold onto it if I know God will provide? So I gave the lady a Euro. To my delight and surprise she was extraordinarily grateful. She lit up like a Christmas tree, thanking me profusely. All I could say was, dios te bendiga in Spanish, which means “God bless you.” As I turned away to rejoin my mom, I thought: she was so grateful, I should go back and give her 20 Euro. I wonder what effect that has on someone begging, to receive 20 Euro. Will she beg more thinking “oh this works” or will she see that it is a sign from God? Nonetheless we were rushed into a taxi a moment later and because I didn’t get to give the woman more money I said a prayer under my breath, ‘God I trust that you will provide what is good and right in abundance for that woman and for me to continue to share Your goodness.’

A few hours later, my mom and I went to a quaint local restaurant a short walk from our hotel. The food was divine and the waitress - who laughed, was patient, and enjoyed our complex language barrier interaction - was full of light. But that’s not part of my anecdote. Towards the end of dinner, a woman walked by our table, bent over and picked up a 20 Euro bill and asked if it was mine. I thought right away that it was, because my pocket was unzipped and had a 20 in it. So I took it. But when I counted the total I realized it was extra, and immediately (for some Divine reason) the image of the woman at the train station popped into my head and I felt her immense sense of gratitude. Foolishly ignoring the sign from God, I thought maybe that the waitress dropped a 20 from the check she just walked by with. I said to my mom, ‘It may be a gift from God, or maybe the waitress dropped it. I will know which it is based on whether the waitress takes it or not.’ The waitress said it wasn’t hers. I realized after some more reflection, that I had written this blog earlier in the day about giving and receiving. And even so, I didn’t claim what God gave me as my own, I tried to re-gift it to the waitress rather than be grateful for it. God was teaching me a lesson. He was thanking me for continuing to have faith after the man with the dog nearly made me doubt, and he was teaching me to recieve as graciously as I was willing to give. I immediately said a prayer, “God thank you for your abundance and for teaching me humility and gratitude. I will claim what belongs to me according to Your Will and trust that you will continue to grant me health, happiness and abundance in Your time and according to what is right in Your Perfect Goodness.”

And that was the end.