Some things go without saying — and yet they’re worth saying anyway.

My husband and I moved fast. We met and married within nine months, right here in this tiny cul-de-sac where his family has lived for generations. What feels even more extraordinary is the story he once shared with me: the first Black woman he ever saw was on television. He was just five years old, watching Donna Summer, completely mesmerized. His mother noticed immediately and said, “Oh, of course” — as if she already knew something he didn’t.

He spent his entire life within this cul-de-sac. And I am only the second woman of color he has ever encountered here — the first who was single. We come from entirely different worlds. I’m a native of NYC and he is a regional native who grew up fishing in the Mediterranean and foraging for mushrooms in the mountains. 

I’ve told him plainly: that is manifestation. That is the law of attraction. That is the universe doing what it does when you’re not even paying attention.

Lately, I’ve been putting these teachings to work in the most unexpected classroom — our chickens. As I mentioned before, at the start of the new year I had a little heart-to-heart with them about stepping up, delivering beautiful eggs, and making their daddy proud. And wouldn’t you know it — they’ve been working overtime ever since. Every feeding session now ends with three to five eggs, which is remarkable considering they went months without producing a single one. My husband, equally shocked and delighted, keeps saying: 

“It’s working. It’s really working.”

And I think about that little five-year-old boy, transfixed by a woman on a television screen. Nearly 47 years later, I appeared right across the way — just outside his family home — and I’m still only the second woman of color he’s ever seen in this place. 

If that isn’t magic and manifestation at its finest, I don’t know what is.