The Email Wasn't the Miracle

A few days ago, I finally gave up.

Not the spiritual kind of giving up where you tell everyone you've surrendered while secretly refreshing your inbox every twenty minutes.

The real kind.

The kind where you throw your hands in the air and say, "Well, I guess that's over."

I've been an influencer with Hay House since around Halloween. Every few weeks, sometimes every month, a package would show up at my door. New decks. New books. New things to explore, learn from, and share with my audience.

Then everything went quiet.

Back in February, I placed an order.

Nothing.

I reached out.

Nothing.

Eventually, someone got back to me and explained that they were running behind.

Fair enough.

So I waited.

A few weeks passed.

Then a few more.

I followed up again.

Nothing.

At first, I told myself I wasn't worried about it.

But the truth is, I was.

The funny thing is that I wasn't actually worried about the package.

I wasn't sitting around desperately needing another tarot deck.

What bothered me was what I thought the silence meant.

You see, over the last few months, some of my rooms have gotten smaller.

Not gone.

Not failed.

Just smaller.

And before I even realized what I was doing, my mind began connecting dots.

Maybe they don't think I'm influential enough anymore.

Maybe they're looking at my numbers.

Maybe they've decided I'm not worth the investment.

Maybe they're quietly moving on.

Maybe I'm not enough.

The fascinating thing is that no one ever said any of those things.

Not one person.

I didn't receive an email telling me I wasn't valuable.

Nobody suggested I'd done anything wrong.

Nobody told me I wasn't enough.

But fear doesn't need evidence.

It only needs a little silence.

And if we're not careful, we'll use that silence to tell ourselves stories.

The mind is remarkably creative when it's trying to protect us.

It fills in the blanks.

It invents explanations.

It creates entire realities out of almost nothing.

Before long, I wasn't waiting for a package anymore.

I was waiting for proof that I still mattered.

Maybe you've done this too.

Maybe someone doesn't text back.

Maybe a client goes quiet.

Maybe business slows down.

Maybe your social media engagement drops.

Maybe an opportunity seems to disappear.

And suddenly it isn't about the text message, the client, the numbers, or the opportunity.

Suddenly it's about you.

Am I still wanted?

Am I still valuable?

Am I still enough?

We rarely realize that's the question we're actually asking.

Eventually I reached a point where there was nothing left to do.

No more emails.

No more checking.

No more trying to make something happen.

I remember sitting there and thinking, "Maybe it's over."

And then something unexpected happened.

I felt peaceful.

Not excited.

Not victorious.

Not resigned.

Just peaceful.

For the first time in months, I stopped fighting reality.

I stopped trying to control the outcome.

I stopped needing an answer.

And somewhere in that moment, I realized something.

Whether Hay House sent that package or not, I was still me.

I was still helping people.

I was still reading cards.

I was still showing up.

I was still doing meaningful work.

My value had not changed.

My worth had not changed.

My purpose had not changed.

The next day, I got an email.

My order was on its way.

But that wasn't all.

There was also an invitation to begin reviewing some of Hay House's new fiction titles.

And there was information about becoming an affiliate partner.

In other words, while I had been sitting there worrying that maybe I wasn't valuable enough anymore, they were actually offering me more opportunities.

I had spent weeks telling myself a story.

Maybe my rooms are too small.

Maybe I'm not influential enough.

Maybe they're moving on.

Maybe I'm not worth the investment.

Meanwhile, reality was telling an entirely different story.

Have you ever noticed how often that happens?

We create elaborate narratives about our shortcomings based on almost no information at all.

Someone gets quiet and we assume they're pulling away.

Business slows down and we assume we're failing.

An opportunity pauses and we assume we're being rejected.

Fear fills in the blanks.

And most of the time, fear gets it wrong.

That's why the email wasn't the miracle.

The package wasn't the miracle.

Even the new opportunities weren't the miracle.

The miracle was realizing how quickly I had handed my worth over to circumstances.

The miracle was catching myself in the act of seeking proof that I was enough.

Because here's the truth:

My value wasn't determined by a package.

It wasn't determined by room size.

It wasn't determined by follower counts.

And it certainly wasn't determined by whether someone else recognized my contribution.

Those opportunities were wonderful, and I am genuinely grateful for them.

But they didn't make me valuable.

They reminded me that I already was.

And maybe that's what abundance really is.

For most of my life, I thought abundance was about getting more.

More money.

More clients.

More opportunities.

More success.

More proof.

More validation.

But lately I've been discovering something different.

Abundance isn't the arrival of the thing.

Abundance is the realization that your well-being isn't dependent on the thing arriving.

It's trusting that life is supporting you even when you can't see the evidence yet.

It's knowing that your worth doesn't fluctuate with your numbers, your bank account, your opportunities,

or other people's opinions.

It's understanding that who you are is greater than any outcome.

The fear of lack tells us that something essential is missing.

That we're one opportunity away from failure.

One rejection away from being unworthy.

One disappointment away from losing everything.

But fear lies.

It always has.

Because every time I've thought I was unsupported, support appeared.

Every time I've thought a door had closed forever, another one opened.

Every time I've questioned my value, life has eventually reflected it back to me in ways I never expected.

The evidence has always been there.

I just wasn't looking at it.

So yes, the email arrived.

The package is on its way.

New opportunities appeared.

But none of that was the miracle.

The miracle was realizing that my worth hadn't been sitting in a warehouse waiting to be shipped.

It wasn't sitting in my analytics.

It wasn't hiding in someone else's approval.

It wasn't waiting for an invitation or an opportunity.

It was here all along.

And so is yours.

If you're in a season where things feel quiet, where answers aren't coming, where opportunities seem stalled, I want to gently remind you of something.

Silence is not proof that you've lost your value.

A pause is not proof that you've been forgotten.

And uncertainty is not proof that abundance has abandoned you.

Sometimes reality is telling an entirely different story than the one fear is creating.

And sometimes the greatest miracle isn't getting what you wanted.

It's remembering who you are before it arrives.

If you're navigating one of those in-between seasons and would like some clarity around what's unfolding, a tarot reading can help illuminate what fear may be hiding from view and reconnect you with the truth of your own wisdom.

You are more supported than you think.

Book a reading