Slow miracles are just as miraculous

This week begins the second phase of my brother's (and our family's)  journey with cancer treatment. It is a journey that many families take. And many of you have probably experienced the trauma of it. First the initial diagnosis hits you like a fast moving train.  Then you give up normal life and enter the new life of experiences NOT of your own choosing. Your days are regulated by hospitals/doctor's visit/various appointments, and your nights, filled with uncertainty, or worse; pain, discomfort and uncertainty. 

As you may recall, my brother was initially given 6 months to live. Last January, he was told that 95% of people with his diagnosis don't survive and that only 5% are eligible for surgery. Well, now, 9 months later, he begins the preparation for surgery in November.

  While, my brother is very thankful for this new treatment plan, his preference, of course, was to be healed suddenly and miraculously. He is a devout Christian. He has many people praying for him and last summer was prayed for by the pastor of a huge church where other people had experienced miraculous healings. As one who has experienced a miraculous healing of a fractured vertebrae, I have no doubt that things like this happen. However, I have had much more often witnessed slow miracles, that happen over a period of time. I see my brother's progression out of the 95% and into the 5% as nothing short of a miracle.

Even though his miracle consisted of radiation and chemo, it has given him time to reconnect with his daughters and to become more thankful for each day of life. His faith has deepened. He has grown closer to God. These are all miracles.

It is easy to forget miracles like this when we are all in our busy normal lives. In fact, our busy normal lives sometimes prevent us from slowing down long enough to even notice miracles.  So, I committed to doing something about that.

This semester I committed to reminding myself and my students to just slow down. I now begin each class with 3 minutes of stillness. I began the semester by asking students to distinguish stillness from silence. They agreed that one can be silent (not talking) but still have a mind furiously working.  I then showed them some of the many research studies that show how a mindfulness practice that slows and eventually quiets the mind has also been associated with numerous health benefits in sick people, less violence among incarcerated people and improved grades with students.  The last one got their attention!

As the semester has progressed with numerous interruptions caused by moving into a new building during the third week of classes and having the second week canceled altogether because of Hurricane Irene, I've noticed that things seem to be flowing much easier. The students seem much calmer...but maybe this is my imagination...I'll report what happens after the first test. However, I am not imagining the calmness that I feel during those first three minutes. It is then that I reconnect with my desire to be a contribution to their lives and realize the utter privilege of being a teacher and how fortunate I am to have a job that I love. Perhaps starting each class with these type of thoughts will make a way for the miraculous to show up. If so, I plan to be aware of them when they do.