Guest Blog: Miracles Happen by Madelyn Burke

Something I’m very excited about is the contributions of other dreamers as guest bloggers. The first was at the top of summer with author Carl Purdon. And now, with great honor, pleasure, and excitement I get to introduce everyone to Madelyn Burke. Here is her contribution. I find it quite inspiring, and I wonder from our community what some of you have experienced as miracles and moments of intuition via dreaming… please post!

Miracles happen. In our waking lives, in our dreams, and in the space that bridges the gap.

I’ve learned that recently, though I believe I’ve known it longer than I recognized.

When I was a kid, I was very intuitive. I was always told I had an “old soul,” which even at a young age I took as quite the compliment. 

My grandfather and I were very close, though he lived in Minnesota and I in Los Angeles. I’d visit him as a kid, and though he was bed-ridden with emphysema for some time, I’d bring him his 7up and the mail and sit with him in his room. I loved every second of that time.

One night, I had a dream. I’m in a white room, on a white wooden chair, in a white dress. In walks my grandfather, the epitome of health, in a white suit and his glasses, looking great. He comes up to me, gives me a hug and a kiss, and says “I love you Maddy. I’m not going to see you for a while, but I’ll be looking after you.”

I was five years old.

I wake up, startled, and run into my mom’s room. I tell her my dream, asking why he would say that, and she calms me down saying it was “just a dream.”

That next morning, my dad calls. His father, my grandfather, had died that night. And it wasn’t “just a dream.”

I’ve had a strong connection with my grandfather, despite us only existing together on this planet for a few years. One night when I was about 8 or 9 years old, I was getting ready for bed at my dad’s new house in Beverly Hills (at the time), which I swore was haunted. He reassured me that I had nothing to worry about, and that my grandfather was watching over me, protecting me. At that moment, we heard Christmas music, and from the bottom of my pile of stuffed animals saw a flashing red light. 

My dad got up, and fished from the bottom of the pile of plush a teddy bear with a red hat that said “Maddy’s Christmas Bear.” The bear my grandfather had given me before he passed.

My dad suddenly recognized it, too. I wasn’t just an imaginative kid. I was in tune with the world around me, and the miracles that happen.

It wasn’t long before he sold that house, and to this day, says he only did it because his daughter said it was haunted. I laugh at that reasoning, but know it’s his way of saying “I trust your intuition.”

Now in my adult life, I’ve realized the same miracles happen around me, but I’ve neglected to notice them. As we get older, we think through things, analyze, rationalize, and have so many distractions that we forget to live in the moment. We forget to look around. Forget to notice the people and places that surround us. As kids, the world is a whole new experience, and everything is fascinating. There are less worries and distractions, more observations and wonder. Less self judgement, more curiosity, exploration, and play.

I’ve made it a personal goal to reignite that child-like wonder. As I’ve set this intention, I feel so much more alive and free. 

When walking my dog the other day, I saw a tree that looked like a cool climbing tree, so I climbed it. And it was fun! I leave my phone at home sometimes to cut off the distractions of the calls, emails, and social media updates, and to really SEE the world around me. Or I drive with the radio off, windows open, and even in traffic, take it as an opportunity to really notice a part of town I may not have stopped in.

But most importantly, I’m inviting the miracles. The signs from the universe that guide us all through life, but most of us miss or discredit. I’ve found that the years of overlooking these has pushed them away, but as I set the intention to invite them back, they become more frequent. And now, when I experience one of life’s little miracles, a sign, an unexpected phone call, a helping hand at the right moment, I honor it with gratitude and acknowledge it for the miracle it is.