I like John J. Oliver. It's not often that someone tells you that they sit in a walk-in closet with the lights turned off, to see if snippets from future headlines of the New York Times come through.

No sirree. You don't hear that everyday.

And yet, when John makes this statement it is not the ramblings of a madmen. This is the sort of thing one expects a professional medium to say.

I took another workshop with John, this one entitled, "Timing is Everything." We spent the day discussing the moon and how to work with it. Fascinating stuff.

Before class started I asked John if he works with angels, he replied, "Yes. Once a year. Usually the Sunday after Halloween."

I was (almost) aghast but kept my thoughts to myself. Meanwhile I was thinking, "Once a year?!?" That's doesn't strike me as the right way to go about this. So I'm in the process of trying to figure out how my daily practice will include (or incorporate) working with the angels. And I'm not talking about the hard-hitting arch angels. I need to get cosy with the regular work-a-day angels. As far as I can tell, most of them are sitting around drumming their fingers wondering when everyone is going to wake up and give them something real to do.

There was one woman in the workshop who wanted to figure out how to go about selling a house that had been on the market for awhile. Fair enough. Although, in my opinion magick should be used to find a cure for aids or cancer, or poverty alleviation. What's with these middle class people who want more material comfort? If there is a God, and I'm not saying there isn't one, he or she must be pretty darn bored with us by now. I know I would be.

I asked John if he had an explanation for the supprssion of wisdom we're living with. He said, "Yes. There's no more mystery." And this got me to thinking. "Am I really into mystery?" "Am I into the unexplained?" And I concluded, "By golly, I am." I think that religion and science and thought and the intellect, that's all very well and good, except for one thing: look at the shape we're in. So perhaps we've got to shift the balance. Because if we were to believe in mystery then we could believe in miracles and then we might start to get somewhere.

How can a rational person believe in miracles? He or she cannot. It is only those who are willing to go beyond what can be reasoned or rationalized who can access miracles. You want things stuck in a nice little boxes with a labels on them? Yeah. Well good luck with all that.

We need miracles and we need to believe in Things that are bigger and smarter than us. We need to restore compassion and and we need to strengthen our hearts. We need to be brave. And I don't just mean once in while, I mean we need to do this each and everyday, as often as possible.

And I do believe in miracles and I don't believe in coincidence and here's an anecdote to show you why.

I was visiting my favorite Aunt. She and I have been good friends going back at least 20 years. I stopped in for dinner last week and I mentioned the angels. I said, "You know they're everywhere." And her eyes lit up and she said, "Do you know about Findhorn?" I said, "No." She said, "It's my favorite place." Then she stepped (more like dashed) out of the kitchen to get The book about Findhorn, her favorite place. Now keep in mind, as her friend you'd think she would have told me about Findhorn a long time ago. And I have a pretty good memory.

She produces this book on Findhorn and excitedly tells me all about. So much so that I probably don't have to read the book. But it's a cool book so I asked if I could borrow it. She said, "Yes. But take good care of it. " (I Always Take Good Care of Books!)

There was no reason for my Aunt to share Findhorn with me until I brought up angels. It would have been time wasted on both our parts. I probably would have thought, "This is interesting," and forgotten about it. But now? Now, I can say, "Cool. Devas." And I get it.

I'm not sure I'm ready to book a flight to Scotland to visit Findhorn as I'm a bit worried that the place might be a bit played out by now but what I found fascinating was that through daily meditation the founders were able to connect with the devas and they turned a scrappy bit of beach head into a thriving garden and spiritual community. Now that's interesting. (And forgive the run-on sentence.)

Now in my daily wanderings, and I do mean walking around Manhattan, I can think about angels and devas and what I've realized is that I want to connect with powerful unseen forces to elicit positive effects. And it's time to buy a new pair of sneakers.