In a time of stress, surrendering and embracing trust leads to an unfolding of miracles
Could you trust that there is something mysterious being woven into the fabric of your every day life?
The year 2007 was a whirlwind. I’d just separated from a 17-year relationship, changed careers, and left sleepy Norfolk for city life in London. Everything familiar was left behind. Friends thought I was crazy — but deep down I knew it was the right thing for me. I’d been numb for too long; it was time to shake up my life on all fronts.
Listening to that small, albeit wobbly, inner voice, I chose to carry on and to ignore my fears and trust my intuition. I was ready for my own self-love affair. My new life plan entailed working at a magazine for a few months then taking off to travel around the world with a mini-sized hairdryer. It was time to re-discover me.
My journey did not start out as planned (they seldom do). After four long, tiring and unsuccessful weeks of pounding the pavement hunting for a flat in North London, I was on my last and final attempt.
I had only four days left before starting work at the magazine; I desperately needed a new home.
My sights were set on Hampstead, a lovely neighborhood that reminded me of home, with lots of leafy trees, but the available flats I saw were out of my budget. I’d been relying on the internet to find an apartment once real estate agents assured me there was no chance that I would find what I was looking for on my budget. When there is a will (and an internet), there is a way!
That morning I kept hearing in my head the song by Bobby McFerrin, Don’t Worry, Be Happy. My instincts told me everything was going to work out. How? I had no idea.
I found a quaint coffee shop overlooking the canal in Little Venice. If I could have stayed in that vicinity I would have (they had trees, too), but the reality was the only thing in my price range at that point was my cup of mocha!
Exhausted, I collapsed at a small table in the corner of the coffee house and proceeded to start scribbling on a notepad. I still had faith, but I had no idea how this was all going to unfold.
Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next. This very refined woman, who looked like she’d just walked off the cover of Vogue, walked over and sat beside me, smiling and giving out a sigh of relief to be off her 3-inch, what looked like Louboutin heels. “Wow, that looks delicious!” she said, admiring my Mocha heaped with cream.
Then another charming woman walked in and joined us. She was laced in fine jewelry and saddled with designer bags. One of the ladies introduced herself as Amanda, a practicing Buddhist; the other was Emma, a real estate agent. They were intrigued by my story: a country girl moving to London, flat hunting, changing careers, walking away from a 17-year relationship, all in one big sweep. “It’s a life-laundry,” I said smiling (yes, life-laundry on spin cycle).
We sat casually chatting for a while and after hearing that I had looked at 25 places to no avail, Emma looked to her friend and said, “You’ve been thinking of renting your attic room haven’t you?” Amanda’s eyes lit up as she turned to face me, “Yes, I have a very large room in the eves, with an en-suite bathroom, in a big house I rattle around in all day. Though most of the time I’m never there, as I’m off travelling on retreats, so you are very welcome to come and have a look if you like. You look like someone who can be trusted!”
Where do you live? I asked. “Hampstead,” she replied (pinch me!).
Everything started to move very fast. Don’t Worry, Be Happy was now playing on the radio, just as I’d heard that morning in my head.
“It’s a sign!” I told my new friends. “Meher Baba (a Tibetan Lama) would call this serendipity,” Amanda squealed. I sat there in awe of what had just happened. My desires were coming to fruition.
By that afternoon, I was being served high tea and biscuits in a house in Hampstead — Hampstead-heaven. I was offered the whole top floor, which was fully furnished, including a queen-sized bed draped in gorgeous linens and French doors that opened to a balcony looking over a beautifully tendered garden.
Weeks of searching for somewhere to live and in one afternoon, I’m saved by a mocha. With more trees than I bargained for and weekly rent only £130 — now that was a miracle!
In the weeks that followed, real-life miracles were coming at me faster than I could recount. Life through the spiritual lens was no longer just about tarot cards, incense sticks and sitting cross-legged like a pretzel — this felt like magic! I’d never experienced anything like it.
Miracles were happening, my vibe was high, life had moved into the fast lane. If ever I doubted anything, Amanda would look at me and say, “Just ask: What should I do now? Where should I go? Who should I speak to? (A Course in Miracles.) Be patient and open and let go; intuition will guide you — just keep moving with the energy of what you want!”
Intuitively, I knew my time with the Amanda, the nights sipping champagne, deep in conversation until the early morning hours, was priceless and would be etched in my memory forever.
So what is the greatest lesson that I learned that magical summer? You never know when your Fairy Godmother is going to arrive.
So stay open, have faith, trust in yourself, move with the energy of your desires and lean into your inner resources knowing that there is something far greater at work in your life. And ponder the notion that you are your very own Fairy Godmother with the power to manifest your desires, to guide you and put you exactly where you need to be. You need only ask. Wave your own magic wand (and dream big — Hampstead big!).
>Learn more about the author at sarahdyer.co.uk.