I’ve always been a deeply spiritual person. It’s something that has carried me through many tough times. Times when I was completely alone, physically and emotionally. Times when nights seemed to drag on forever, daylight never dawning, my soul in anguish, begging for something, anything to alleviate the pain. It’s always been subtle, something I’ve had to attune myself to, learn how to notice the signs and synchronicities. But they have been telling me all along that I am not, nor have I ever been, alone.
As a child, I used to hear the wind calling my name. I’d swing for hours, taking in the sounds of nature around me, the smell of grass, and the feel of the breeze on my skin. I lived in the woods as much as possible, always escaping into its unconditional love and finding refuge from the heaviness of the world.
It’s hard when you’re in the depths of it, going through growing pains, stuck in the goo of your own cocoon, desperate for the metamorphosis. But in those times, I’ve learned that stillness is the answer. For only in stillness do we become aware of the beauty and interconnectedness of life and all things.
I’ve been seeing angel numbers for decades, but this past week it has been constant. 11:11, 12:34, 2:22, 3:33, 4:44, 5:55. And every time it happens, I smile, a deep knowing blooming inside me that the Universe is talking to me, telling me I am not alone and promising that my emergence and transformation are happening even in the midst of all the darkness.
I’ve been receiving messages in my dreams, getting head tingles that are my body’s way of telling me a loved one who has passed on is visiting. And on Thursday, I manifested something without even knowing I was doing so. I wrote in my journal about spending time on my screened-in porch, talking and listening to music, hearing the birds sing and the bugs buzz, and the magic of the fireflies coming out to dance and light up the descending darkness of twilight.
And the next night, that was exactly what happened. I didn’t realize it at first. I didn’t remember what I had written. I was just enjoying being present in the moment. But as my husband and I stepped outside into the yard and walked toward the forest, the fireflies put on the most magnificent show for us. And then it dawned on me. I had written this the day before. I had MANIFESTED this magical moment. And then, to make it even more magical, a firefly lazily darted over to us, glowing brightly and rhythmically, hovering right in front of my face, dancing around me in a circle, then bouncing off my husband’s upturned hand. We were both mesmerized, both utterly enthralled by the magic of it.
I couldn’t capture it if I tried. No photo or video would do it justice. Thankfully, I didn’t have my phone on me to even try. I was too enchanted with the moment to bother. Which is the way we should be. Present, not trying to capture everything with our phones, but instead capturing it with our minds and our souls. So it can play on forever in our memories and our hearts.
The message from the Universe was clear, right when I needed it most. We are never alone. There is a higher power, an energy of creation, that connects us all. With the land, with the cosmos, with each other.
If your heart is heavy, if you are carrying burdens too heavy to name, if you are trying to heal from trauma and despair, know this: I see you. The Universe sees you. You are not alone, not for a moment. And you are eternally loved.