Mystery and divinity in even the most ordinary

I just finished visiting with a friend, and I shared with her how I had spent time yesterday afternoon in meditation while Ava was asleep with the intention of connecting with Mitch. I received confirmation of his presence through chills up and down my body when my concentration was focused on feeling him, and when I felt open to receiving a sign of his presence. She remarked how perhaps he was communicating to me in all kinds of ways that required less effort, and that I only needed to open my eyes to see... That perhaps he was communicating to me through other people, through music, through my own thoughts, through nature, and that I only needed to open my eyes and my heart to feel him in my everyday life during the times when I was not immersed in deep meditation. She even remarked that perhaps he had wanted me to hear the words that she had just shared with me. I couldn't have agreed more. Another lesson in the grieving process of letting go, letting go of my expectation of what communication and connection with someone who has passed away looks like, and being open to the mystery and the divinity that lies in even the most ordinary...