Everyone has the right to miracles, but first a purification is necessary · Practice and Test

Everyone has the right to miracles, but first a purification is necessary

Beginning of Miracles 7 · UCDM

You've already felt it more times than you'd like. That tiredness in the chest, that day that ends and seems to only leave more confusion. You see stories of people—brave women, men who have hit rock bottom and made it—and yet you think your case is different.

In your life the miracle does not come; The promise of peace does not even appear. You've read, you've made an effort, you've asked for help, you've even changed everyday details. But the feeling that "something is wrong with me" can overcome everything.

The question hits you: Why do I never receive the miracle? Should he have been born in another body, in another country, in another family? Is it just a matter of having blind faith?
This is where the teaching of A Course in Miracles is unsettled—and liberating.
The miracle is not a matter of chance, nor is it the privilege of a few, a few. It is, and it is waiting for you.

Purification: The Great Confusion

The word weighs heavily. They showed it to you with fear. When you were a child, a boy, "purification" seemed like a threat, an impossible duty. To purify oneself was to avoid mistakes, to demand penance, to cross out desires and to force one's body. Not only the great religions did it: your family, the teachers, the grandparents, the environment. Everything revolved around cleaning the exterior.

But what if the real cleansing had nothing to do with the body, nor with rituals, nor with punishments? What if the impure were only your thoughts, never your skin, or your habits?

The beginning of the miracle makes it clear from minute one. Discipline and sacrifice do not matter. We must not mortify ourselves, or give up enjoyment, or withdraw from the world. Change happens within.

The impure is what separates you, what you judge without wanting to let go, what keeps you in the history of the past and in the fear of what is to come.

The actual purification, then, is intimate. It is the silent work of looking into the dark corners of the mind—without terror, without shame, without pretense.

What does this principle really say? Look at the background... And change what matters

It touches you intellectually. The trap at the beginning is often misunderstood. It is not enough to imagine that purification is "feeling good," "thinking positively," or "doing the right thing." The teaching goes in just the opposite direction:

• No one is impure, by his body, by his external acts.
• The miracle does not depend on who you are on the outside.
• There is no scale of errors, no achievements, no insurmountable falls.

The purification proposes a brutal twist: Stop looking at the body and the external world as the source of your problem. Learn to look at thoughts: there is the root and the only place where the genuine miracle occurs.

What is it about then?

• Loosen rigid concepts, doctrines and customs that have distanced you from love.
• Abandon the defense of the ego, which makes you believe that your guilt is special and that your wound has no way out.
• Looking thoughts of separation in the face: "Me here, you there, the miracle is for other people."

Purification is refusing to continue hating. Refusing to justify it. Refusing self-judgment.

It involves the willingness—not perfect, not definitive—to surrender those thoughts to the Spirit, and to humbly ask that they be transformed.

The miracle is for everyone, as long as you're willing, willing

Everyone has the right to a miracle, even if deserving is not an honest word in this process. No one is left out.

Think about those times when you look with suspicion at people who seem to have healed something that is still alive for you. The mind tries to convince us that "they do, I don't", "he can, I can't".

What if the miracle did not depend on external experience, nor on spiritual "merits", nor on accumulated achievements?

Only one thing counts. Be willing, willing to let the old perception fade away. To allow – even for a second – that what seemed definitive to you, impossible to modify, can be seen from another level.

There is a tradition – very human – of looking for miracles in the spectacular, in gestures that break logic. That's not where the shots go.

The miracle is simple: the willingness to let your mind recognize the presence of love where before it found only pain.

It's not walking on water, or winning an existential lottery. It is opening yourself to the Spirit—or however you understand it—to offer you a new way of seeing, feeling, forgiving. Nothing else. Nothing less.

Who puts up the obstacles? The mind, always the mind

Here comes the awkward part. The problem that keeps you away from the miracle is never your history, or your genetics, or your social class. The real obstacle is the mental space that continues to store thoughts of separation, guilt, fear, and judgment.

They do not come from outside. They come from your unsuspected inner corners:

• When you repeat to yourself, to yourself, that you don't deserve forgiveness.
• When you justify resentment because "that's unforgivable."
• When you react before you think, and justify the attack with a mountain of arguments.

The mind is contaminated fast. Purifying it means interrupting those cycles.

You don't have to become "morally superior," or change your way of life abruptly. You just have to learn to look at the thought and decide if you want to stay there. Loosen control. Release the automatic defense.

How do you know if you need to clear your mind?

I leave you with a simple list that, if you are honest, honest, it can hurt a little, but it helps:

• You feel the same resentment visit you again and again, for the same or new reasons.
• There are things/people/situations that you can't yet look at without anger, shame, or pain.
• Guilt accompanies you like a shadow, sometimes open, sometimes covert.
• You believe that your story has peculiarities that really prevent forgiveness.
• You look for excuses not to let go of the old wound ("it's not worth it", "it's what it is", "it's not going to change").

Cleaning starts right there. Not with promises, not by forcing. Only with the sincerity to put your thoughts on the table and endure the trembling of accepting them.

Peace: what does it mean on this path? How do you recognize it?

All authentic spiritual life is fractured when you try to measure progress by visible results. Feeling better? Do you gain more confidence? Do you get more miracles than before? Forget those metrics.

The only measure you can—and should—consider is inner peace.

Has your reaction to the same problem changed even slightly? Do you find it easier to pause before judging, attacking, defending yourself?

It is not a matter of controlling the results, nor of showing them to other people. In fact, what matters is invisible and only you recognize it:

• You can be close to that person who used to drain you without losing control.
• The situation that months ago was sinking you, now only worries you.
• The judgment slows down for another moment, and you discover a crack of compassion.

That's progress. That is to have purified a small part of the mind. And no, you don't need to continue if you can't, but it's worth remembering when the ego tells you that you haven't changed anything.

Spiritual Malpractice: What Doesn't Help (and What Does)

Common mistakes, to add honesty to the daily practice of purification:

• Trying to fix the body, when the problem is in the mind.
• Believing that with external discipline (diets, abstinence, physical renunciation) the profound is resolved.
• Measure progress according to the recognition of others, rituals, external norms.
• Punishing yourself every time you "go backwards" in your process.
• To believe that there are wounds so deep that not even God's love can heal them.

Small gestures that do open the way to a miracle:

• Stop before the attack (even for a few seconds).
• Write down toxic thoughts without judging them, just to observe them.
• To offer the Spirit — with the word you want — the wound that you thought impossible to heal.
• Allow forgiveness as a possibility, without pressure to do it "now."
• Doubt the veracity of your ancient stories before defending them to the death.

The miracle is practiced in the ordinary, and that is where it is needed

We like to look for spectacular signs, radical changes, movie epiphanies. But life goes in another direction. The miracle sneaks in those tedious hours, in the relationship you have with your mother, with your boss, with your body. It occurs in discussions where you used to react with anger, and now you recognize the fright and decide not to respond in the same way.

Loving is not an immaculate experience, a sad background music. To love is to practice the humble gesture of not attacking when "you have reasons", of renouncing resentment even if it has always accompanied you, of forgiving the interruption in the middle of meditation.

No one becomes holy, holy, by practicing this. You don't make yourself a better person either. You simply stray less and less from love. And that transforms.

Why Your Love Is Never Insufficient

The pressure to be "very good," "highly evolved," "more spiritual" sabotages the miracle constantly. There are times when it seems to you that what you feel is not enough, that your compassion is mediocre, that your forgiveness barely scratches the surface.

But there are no degrees of love. No moment where you let go of judgment is insignificant on this path. The miracle happens every time you allow yourself to look with less defense and more desire for peace.

Forgiving a trifle, a silly argument, is just as helpful as being at peace with someone who destroyed your trust. There are no meters, no liters, no measurements. There is honesty. There is practice, that's all.

Teaching the miracle: not by words, but by presence

Sometimes you think that helping others involves convincing, instructing, setting an explicit example. No. It is about breathing, of remaining honest, of not defending the old stories.

Your children, your friends, your partner, feel the difference even when you don't say anything. The miracle circulates invisible, in the ability to sustain the conflict without losing dignity, in the willingness to look at the wound without requiring instant healing.

The teaching lies in your daily willingness not to attack, not to defend suffering as the only way of being. And that, I repeat, does not need words.

When you fail, when you fall, when guilt wants to stay...

Nobody always gets this job right. You will stumble, you will fall, you will turn back. That does not mean that you lose the right to the miracle. The honest practice is to forgive yourself for going back to the old mechanism, for registering guilt, for feeling "less."

Every mistake—every return to the drama—is only an opportunity to remember that the mind is in the process of purification, not judgment. Perfection is a trap. The practice is human, imperfect.

It is therefore convenient to accept that the miracle never punishes, it never withdraws because of your mistakes. Just ask to open the door again.

Are you ready, ready to let your mind make room for the miracle?

No one can push you beyond the internal disposition. There is no hurry, there are no rules. When you find yourself about to react as usual, you can choose not to. That tiny gesture is a miracle.

Mental purification is the axis of the entire journey. Here, now, it is up to you to decide if you want, even if timidly, that the miracle has space. Not to solve everything at once. Just so you don't stay in the same room, with the same emotional and mental filth every year, every day.

The important thing is the next step

There is no perfect ending, there is no closure. Just a sequence of gestures, of clumsy practices, of moments where you choose to look at your story more gently. The miracle is not distant, nor distant, nor exclusive. It is everyday, intimate, unexpected.

It all depends on your real willingness to clear your mind, loosen your defenses, and open yourself up to a practice of naked love, sometimes full of doubt, sometimes full of hope.

The next principle of miracles awaits you when you are ready, when you are ready. Not because you deserve it more than anyone else, but because no wound escapes the possibility of being seen with different eyes.

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