Miracles: A Gratitude Practice Inspired by the Poet Walt Whitman

By Alan Lowis

What is a miracle? Have you ever seen one? Felt one? Lived through one so quietly you didn’t even realize it until much later?

When we hear the word miracle, many of us think of divine interventions, dramatic recoveries, or impossible odds suddenly shifting. But what if that definition is too small?What if the real miracle… is simply being here?

“As to me I know of nothing else but miracles...” — Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

This video is quiet, heartfelt reading of the poem that inspired this reflection. Let it slow you down. Let it open your eyes. Let it bring you into the present moment —so you can begin to find your miracles.

Walt Whitman, who lived in the 1800’s, was a poet of deep perception—a man who saw the sacred in the simple and the divine in the everyday. A father of American free verse, his work celebrated the human spirit, nature, love, and the interconnectedness of all things. But perhaps one of his most powerful pieces of wisdom lies in a short poem often overlooked: Miracles.

In it, he doesn’t speak of parting seas or supernatural signs. Instead, he names as miracles the most ordinary things: walking city streets, feeling the ocean on his feet, speaking with someone he loves, or watching bees in the sunlight.

“Or talk by day with anyone I love…

Or sleep in the bed at night with anyone I love…

Or the wonderfulness of insects in the air…

Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring…”

Miracles aren’t rare. They are constant—woven into the fabric of everyday life.

He didn’t point to heavenly signs.

He pointed to us.

To the breath in our lungs, the trees above our heads, the people we love, the moon, the bees, the strangers we pass on trains.

Everything is miraculous.

And when we start to see life this way—not just the extraordinary, but the ordinary as sacred—gratitude stops being a fleeting feeling and becomes a state of being.

This is the invitation of his poem—and of this article:

To shift the way we see the world.

To begin noticing what we’ve been given.To begin living in gratitude not as an occasional feeling, but as a way of seeing and a way of being.

The Forgotten Miracles of Our Modern World

Walt Whitman marveled at bees, moonlight, and conversation with loved ones.

And those are miracles.

But imagine what he would say if he saw our world.

We live in an age so saturated with miracles that we often fail to notice them at all.

We don’t call them miracles anymore—we call them “normal.”

But just pause for a moment…

• You turn a handle, and hot, clean water pours into your hands.

  
  

• You flip a switch, and light appears.

  
  

• You press a button, and someone across the planet hears your voice instantly.

  
  

• You board a plane and fly through the sky, something that would have been unimaginable for almost all of human history.

  
  

• You have access to lifesaving medicine, surgery, and vaccines that kings and queens of the past would have traded their empires for.

  
  

• You open a tiny device and access the entire knowledge of humanity—text, audio, video—instantly.

  
  

• You can learn anything whether or not you can read, thanks to podcasts, audiobooks, and videos.

  
  

• You can press play and be moved by music created, recorded, edited, and shared across time and space.

  
  

Then there’s food.  You walk into a store and find shelves overflowing—fresh fruit in every color, grains from every continent, spices, sauces, and meals ready to eat.

At almost any hour, you can have almost anything you crave.

For most of human history—and for billions still today—this would be inconceivable.

In ancient times, hundreds of men would sail across oceans—risking shipwreck, scurvy, starvation, and death—just to return with a small handful of pepper.

A treasure so rare, only kings could afford it.

Today, that same spice sits unnoticed on every kitchen table.

What was once worthy of empires… is now taken for granted.

And it’s not just food.

Almost anything we want can be delivered to our door—on demand.

Clothing. Medicine. Tools. Toys. Art. Books. Furniture. Entertainment.

Groceries. Prescriptions. A new phone. A yoga mat. Dinner from three different restaurants.

All arriving in hours—or even minutes—with a tap, a swipe, or a simple voice command.

We live in a time when the things we once traveled days or weeks to find… now come to us while we sit in our pajamas.

It’s easy to forget how miraculous this is.

What would someone from a century ago think if they saw you summon meals, knowledge, music, and medicine without ever leaving your home?

They would call it magic.

We call it Tuesday.

But just because it’s familiar doesn’t mean it’s not miraculous.

The truth is, we live surrounded by miracles that would have been worshiped as divine just centuries ago. If you showed your everyday life to someone from the past, they wouldn’t believe it. They might call it magic - they would certainly call it miraculous.

But because we’re used to it, we forget to see it.

We forget that the warmth of a shower, the glow of a screen, the sound of a loved one’s voice carried over invisible waves—these are all miracles.

Gratitude is what makes them visible again.

Gratitude as a Way of Seeing

The brain doesn’t just record reality.

It filters it—constantly.

You don’t see everything.

You see what your brain believes is important.

This mechanism, called selective attention, is designed to keep us safe and efficient. But it also means that anything consistent or easy to obtain—no matter how extraordinary—eventually fades into the background.

This is how miracles become invisible.

Psychologists call it hedonic adaptation—our tendency to quickly return to a baseline level of satisfaction, no matter how much our external conditions improve.

You’ve felt it before.

• The new phone that once amazed you?

  Within days, it just becomes “your phone.”

  
  

• The home you once dreamed of living in?

  Now you pass through it barely noticing the comfort and security it provides.
  

• The relationship that once made your heart race?

  Can become something you forget to say “thank you” for, or worse, take for granted.
  

• The body you once prayed to heal?

  When suffering we just want the pain to stop. But once the pain is gone, you stop noticing how good it feels to move, to walk, to breathe without effort.
  

• Even something as simple as air conditioning or clean water—miracles by any historical standard—fade into the unnoticed background.
  

It all becomes “normal” faster than we expect.

And it’s not because we’re ungrateful people.It’s because our brains are wired for survival, not appreciation.

The brain is constantly scanning for change—because new might mean danger. It ties to protect us by focusing attention on the unfamiliar, the uncertain, the potentially threatening.

Meanwhile, anything that’s stable, consistent, or recurring gets filtered out.

It’s an efficiency mechanism.

The extraordinary becomes expected, so we can conserve energy for what’s next.

That’s how “amazing” quietly turns into “ordinary.”

How what once felt like a miracle becomes invisible.

And once something is common, accessible, or familiar…it’s no longer seen as a gift.

It’s expected.

But what we expect, we stop appreciating.

And what we stop appreciating, we begin to feel entitled to.

Until even abundance can start to feel like not enough.

That’s why gratitude matters.

What we take for granted loses its emotional impact.

What we give thanks for regains its magic.

Gratitude disrupts the brain’s autopilot.

It pulls your attention back to the extraordinary things you’ve begun to treat as ordinary.

It slows the adaptation process. It reactivates awe.

And, not surprisingly, awe - seeing miracles everywhere - reawakens gratitude.

The more you look, the more you see.

And once you begin to really see—with eyes open like a child’s—something shifts.

You stop glossing over. You start noticing.

You begin to realize how much effort, beauty, and grace go into even the smallest things.

You see the design behind a spoon.

The effort behind a meal.

The miracle behind a body that breathes, moves, and heals.

The love behind a kind word.

The silence behind a sunrise.

The ordinary becomes extraordinary.

The routine becomes sacred.

You become more present.

You appreciate more.

And that word—appreciate—is worth pausing on.

To appreciate something doesn’t just mean to notice it.

It means to value it.

And in valuing it, you give it more meaning, more weight, more worth.

But appreciation works both ways.

When you appreciate the things in your life…

They grow in value to you.

And you grow in value—because you become more aware, more joyful, more alive.

This is the shift that gratitude offers:

Not just a nice feeling, but a way of seeing.

A way of being.

A Profound Moment That Changed Me Forever

Years ago, I spent some time living in a Buddhist monastery in the mountains of northern Thailand.

Each day began at 4:30 a.m. We would rise in silence and meditate before walking barefoot with the monks down cold, dusty roads through a village with the simplest of homes—pieced together from tin, wood, and whatever could be found. There was no electricity, no running water, no modern comfort. And yet, the people were radiant with generosity.

As we passed by, these villagers—who had so little by the world’s standards—offered what they could: a few pieces of fruit, a handful of rice, bits of vegetables or meat prepared before dawn.They gave from the little they had, with full hearts.

After the walk, we returned, meditated again, and shared a simple meal. Later, there were daily chores. One afternoon, I volunteered to sweep a large outdoor patio. A tiny, frail elderly woman greeted me with a gentle smile and showed me where the brooms and rakes were kept.

When the sweeping was done, most of the others quietly drifted away.

But I noticed the woman again—trying to move a wheelbarrow that was almost comically too big for her. It wobbled down the path as she struggled to guide it. Without thinking, I quickly went to help her.

She welcomed my help with a warm nod, and together we walked down a winding forest path. As we went, she motioned for me to gather fallen wood. I followed her lead, picking up branches and kindling until we filled the wheelbarrow.

Eventually, we arrived at one of the monastery’s meditation halls. She pointed toward the door and I removed my shoes. Quietly and respectfully, I stepped inside with the wood.

Then something clicked.

The night before, I had sat in that very hall for hours, wrapped in silence, meditating through the still coldness of the mountain air. I remembered, vividly, a moment during the session when I felt warmth wash over me—how comforting it had been after the chill.

Now I understood.

It was this woman.

This gentle, humble soul—gathering wood, arranging it by hand, preparing heat for all of us so we could meditate in safety and comfort.

She hadn’t spoken much. She hadn’t asked for thanks.

But in that moment, I felt overwhelmed by the quiet miracle of her care.

I was moved to tears—not because of the gesture alone, but because I had nearly missed it.

This invisible act of love.

This miracle, hidden in the mundane.

Gratitude Practices – Finding the Miracles

Gratitude Exercise 1: A Personal Inventory of Miracles

Gratitude begins when we slow down enough to see.

To notice. To name. To feel what we’ve already been given.

This practice is simple, but powerful:

Make a personal inventory of the miracles in your life.

Not the dramatic ones you’re still hoping for—but the ones that are already here.

Start with the obvious:

• People you love—and who love you back

• Emotions that make life rich: joy, sorrow, awe, compassion

• Moments that shaped you

• Simple comforts: a bed, a hot meal, clean water, a roof overhead

• Opportunities: education, safety, freedom, work, choice

• Inner gifts: your ability to imagine, forgive, learn, create
  

Then go deeper:

• Your heart, beating without asking permission

• Your lungs, drawing breath in this moment

• Your nervous system, taking in the world and responding

• The miracle of memory, emotion, and self-awareness

• The fact that you can read these words or hear them, and understand

  
  

And still deeper:

• That conversation you’ll never forget

• That stranger who showed you kindness

• The loved ones who mean so much

• That moment of clarity that changed everything

• That time someone loved you when you couldn’t love yourself

• That unexpected provision that arrived just in time
  

Write them down. One by one. Let each entry be a moment of presence.

This is your list of miracles.The invisible wealth you carry every day.

And the more you name… the more you’ll find.

Gratitude Exercise 2: A Day of Miraculous Awareness

For one full day, walk through life awake.

Fully here. Fully alive.

Not lost in your thoughts or racing to the next task—but present.

Let this be your quiet question:

“What’s the miracle in this moment?”

You don’t have to search hard.

Just feel what’s already here.

Let your senses become the doorway to gratitude:

• See the light as it spills through your window. The colors of a leaf. The lines on someone’s face. The way steam curls up from your cup.
  

• Hear the texture of voices. A laugh in the distance. Your favorite song. Silence between sounds.
  

• Smell the warmth of food, the sharpness of rain, the comfort of something familiar.
  

• Taste what you eat as if it were your first time—sweet, salty, sour, rich.
  

• Touch the ground beneath your feet, the fabric against your skin, the hug, the wind, your own heartbeat in your chest.
  

Start from the moment you wake up.

• The feeling of breath entering your lungs
  

• The softness of your bed
  

• The miracle of electricity making coffee, warming water, lighting your room
  

• The taste of food, the cleanliness of water, the ability to move your body
  

As your day unfolds, continue to look:

• A tree you pass by—alive and ancient
  

• The smile of a stranger
  

• The way your body keeps functioning without you managing it
  

• Your ability to read, to speak, to listen, to think
  

• A piece of music that moves you
  

• A memory that resurfaces
  

• A quiet moment that brings peace
  

• A challenge that’s teaching you something you didn’t know you needed
  

Notice the beauty you usually rush past.

The emotions you normally suppress.

The people you often overlook.

The thousands of tiny blessings stitched into every hour.

Try to write down 5–10 moments where something stirred you—something small, maybe fleeting, but real.

That’s it. That’s the practice.

And the more you do it, the more you’ll see:

Your whole life is made of miracles.

Presence Is the Portal

We don’t miss miracles because they’re not there.

We miss them because we’re not here.

So much of life is lived on autopilot.

We go through the motions. We check the boxes. We scroll, swipe, and distract ourselves into numbness.

But when you become fully present—mentally, emotionally, spiritually, sensorially—the world changes.

Colors deepen.

Connections feel richer.

Moments stretch wider.

The ordinary begins to glow.

This is the real gift of presence:

It doesn’t just help you see the miracle…

It lets you feel it.

And in that feeling, life becomes sacred again.

Not because the world changed—

But because you did.

You Can’t Go Back—But You Can Wake Up

If you could travel in time…

Imagine reliving each day.

You’d move through the ordinary with fresh eyes—noticing the warmth of sunlight, the softness in a friend’s voice,the taste of food, the kindness of strangers, the miracle of breath.

There would be no stress about what might happen—only the quiet joy of seeing what’s already here.You’d know what mattered. You’d know what to savor.

You’d live each moment on purpose.

But you can’t go back.

You don’t get to relive your days.

You get this one.

This one miraculous, mysterious, beautiful life.

So live it like the miracle it is.

Notice it. Feel it.

Show up fully—for yourself, for others, for this world.

Because presence is a superpower.

And gratitude is what unlocks it.

Live your life like it’s all a miracle.

Because it is.

And so are you.

Share the Miracles

If this reflection touched you, moved you, or helped you see your life a little more clearly—pass it on.

Someone you love might be waiting for a reminder like this.

Someone struggling might need help seeing the beauty still around them.

Someone may have forgotten… that they, too, are a miracle.

Share the light. Share the gratitude. Share the miracles.

Because what we appreciate grows. And what we share… multiplies.