Tesla has a song about signs and it's super annoying. I mean, it's actually a great song but when the Bearded Woodsman sings it to pay you back for repeatedly poking him in the arm because you're trying to annoy him for 5 minutes and then you spend the next three days singing, "Signs.. signs.. everywhere there's signs... f*in up the scenery breaking my mind. Do This, Don't Do That ... Can't you read the signs.." it becomes a form of Chinese water torture.
Women are notorious for reading horoscopes, looking into astrology, paying for psychics and looking for life answers (i.e. signs) with Tarot card readings from the 'Ascended Masters.' It's a billion dollar industry really. In fact, if you read certain books on pick-up artistry, they will mention that a man showing interest in these things and talking about them with women will actually help you get laid. You could certainly ask the Bearded Woodsman about it. As for me, I'm sure it did actually help us connect. After all, he is in fact hanging out in my bed more often.
That being said, I'm super into angel numbers and signs from divinity. It could be because I spent years off and on trying to figure out if there is a spiritual realm to connect with my dad. It could also be because during some traumatic years in my life I did see angels.
So yes, for the record, I too fall girlie victim to all the wonderment of astrology, capability of zodiac signs, tarot cards, and more so to anything that seems symbolic in my stratosphere of being - which today seems to be a lot. If it resonates, I give it a second thought. And today things are resonating at a very high frequency.
Sometimes your past meets your present and if you're lucky you find a way to dodge the two. But, somehow in the story of my life my universes are about to collide. And when universes collide I'm pretty sure there's an implosion and either both sides die or somehow new life finds it's way to expand and coexist.
All of the above scare the f* out of me.
See, I'm supposed to pick up Mr. Maybe's first born 17-year-old son he hasn't seen in 13 years, along with his father who he hasn't seen in four at the airport. He asked me over a month ago to be there with him when it all goes down. Mr. Maybe was someone extremely significant in the story of my life who taught me a lot about who to be, how to grow, and when to let sh*t go. That relationship ended a while ago only for it to resurface only moments after the Bearded Woodsman entered the scene.
I'd love to say it's no big deal but, it kinda is. Because those we have history with tend to show up an inopportune times to come along and f* things up. They stir up old emotions and wrap their tiny little ropes around our heart pulling us in a different direction.
I think Mr. Maybe tried to respect me in a number of ways by leaving me alone for the most part. But, then there are always those texts in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning that beg to cross boundaries and lines just to see if he ever had a winning hand to my heart (and more so to my libido).
Emotional manipulation doesn't work on me the way it did a decade ago. Or even a year when he came around. My tolerance for getting anything less than what I want in my life is zero. Except, Mr. Maybe does have something I miss in my life. He has the party.
So, I'm driving along waiting for the text that it's go time to pick him up and head to the airport. The first thing that happens is the text reads, "The flight is delayed. I'm waiting for confirmation that it's still getting off the ground."
The next thing that happens is I see a rainbow.
In the story of my life I view rainbows as God's blessing. I think it came from the story of Jonah in the Bible (after he ran completely in the wrong direction from where God told him to go) and confess I'm not religious much but am a spiritual person and in tune with that sort of stuff. Not here nor there, but when I see a rainbow I'm reminded God's got my back and has things planned for my life.
The next thing that happened was realizing today is 7.17.17.
Sevens in the bible are the number for completion. 7's signify not an end but leveling up.
In angel # world it means:
"Well, Universe," I said, "I leave it to you. Which way the cards fall and how my life turns out... will I go back to the party? Am I supposed to be with Mr. Maybe tonight? Is there something in this for me other than f*ing up my life? Or am I supposed to lean towards new adventures and storylines and start something new (albeit terrifying) with the Bearded Woodsman by traveling a road I haven't been down before?"
Nearly immediately as my thought to God ended, "Porn Star Dancing" came on the radio. Oddly, this is one of the songs that The Bearded Woodsman and I have. Nothing but good thoughts and all the amazing times we've had from the moment we met started playing on repeat in my head. I'm pretty sure I knew where I wanted to be. And it was finishing my book, at Starbucks, the way I said I would while he was working.
The song ended and just then another text came in. "I just want to say Thank you for being there for me. I have another ride. The flight isn't coming in until 2:30. Take care."
Completion.
Three years ago Mr. Maybe said he would find a way to see his children. To give him time. Three years ago I was talking about wanting to write a book and publish it. Last night about 2:30, as he was picking up his father and son from the airport, I was uploading my book to Amazon.
Completion.
I finally got what I wanted. A sense of accomplishment. Of moving forward in my life.
I can only feel Mr. Maybe got the same. A sense of accomplishment. Of facing his fear of rejection. A sense of moving forward and letting the go of the past.
Sometimes we live in parallel worlds. And we find one another in the oddest of places and help one another in the strangest of ways.
I couldn't have been more elated that last night my life didn't end.
I wasn't pulled back into the abyss of emotions and hurt and frustration over a relationship that had run its course.
In fact, I'd never been so excited as when The Bearded Woodsman walked through my front door, happy, and hung out with me and my kiddos until we laughed ourselves to sleep....
How many nights do we pray and pray for our lives to change and then wake up with a choice to choose a new direction but feel ourselves gravitating towards the familiar and the emotional pull of what feels real versus moving into uncharted territory? How many times do we say no and justify why we can't move forward? I liked my signs yesterday. Everything feels so brand new. And that is an experience in itself.
- I*V
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