Diving Three Times

A miracle is the unknowable mixed with our own sweat

2026 POSTCARD CALENDARS ARE HERE!

I’ve been spending a lot of time with the idea of miracles recently, as I have been working my way through Jeannine Oulette’s latest writing intensive The Miracle Project. Honestly, I had never believed miracles were for me. Something about the way the word felt too religious, too lucky, too some people get chosen and some do not. But the more time I spend with the word, the more it bends to fit me. The more time I spend with the word, the more it shows me how hope and magic and hard work all play together in its meaning. The more time I spend considering miracles, the more I see proof of their existence. I see them in the architecture. I see them in moments. The more time I spend with that word, the more I believe they can be called upon. The unknowable mixed with our own sweat.

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I play my guitar with a BlueChip pick, which are wonderful plastic polymer picks that mimic tortoise shell. Real tortoise shell is problamatic for obvious reasons, and the BlueChips are great but annoyingly expensive (about $45 each).

When I first got this one, a large triangle number 50, which I love because it sits on my bones and I don’t have to grip it, we were about to leave on a tour from Seattle to the Bay Area in California. As most women’s clothing does not have pockets and I like to have my pick on me, I had developed a long-standing habit of tucking my pick into my bra, which is where this one was riding when we crossed the border from Oregon into California and stopped at our favorite swimming hole on the Smith River.

If it was even approaching warm enough, we always stopped at the Smith. There were rocks to jump from, a little beach, and the cleanest, coldest dose of euphoria when you got in the river.

I stripped down to my underwear and jumped right in to wash the drive off, but the plunge was too much for my attire, and I felt that little BlueChip float out of my bra and disappear into the current.

I only clutched at hope for a moment before deciding the current was too strong and it was gone.

Jakob, however, was not going to give up. “Don’t move!” he shouted from the beach as he sprang up and into the water beside me. He dove down, came up to breathe, and dove again. Three times, and on that third return, his hand broke the surface first, and he rose like a dripping River God clutching gold. Water running off his face and hair, he held the pick high: a small piece of brown plastic plucked from the river stones. It caught the sun in triumph, the river spirits singing, the whole band cheering, the strangers smoking a joint, cheering, the kids about to jump off the rocks, all cheering. We dripped and laughed and whooped with delight. That day we didn’t lose. That day, the world was on our side. That day, we all believed in miracles.

Jakob said it was actually really easy to see once you were under the surface. The pick was brown, the stones were grey. It was a stark contrast and the water was crystal clear. It had sunk right away and was only a short distance from my feet. The miracle was just the third dive.

I look up at my life all the time and ask where things went. Not just physical things, (although there are a couple of sweaters I see in pictures of me that I would love to find), but I ache for the lost habits and practices. Some practices cycle through as I need them for the season, but some went and fell in the river when I wasn’t looking. With the way obligation and survival fill my time, it feels like I really would need a miracle to get them back.

And am I bold enough to ask for it? Am I ready to dive a third time?

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Preorders for the A Wilder Wonder 2026 POSTCARD CALENDAR are open! The calendar is also a collection of postcards, to aid in my secret plan to change the world through a postcard revolution. Get off the screen. Write notes to people you love and send them in the mail. This is the magic.

They’re great gifts for yourself or others, and when you support this project, you are also helping to keep “A Wilder Wonder” and my little creative forge going, and I thank you wholeheartedly.

This year’s calendar is heading to print, and orders will be shipped at the end of November. The art this year is made from my old prints, mixed with drawings I did for this newsletter over the course of the year. I’m playing with themes of music and magic and movement ( I can’t tell if I love that alliteration or want to laugh at it, but those really are the themes)

I can’t wait for you to see them!