Do You Believe in Signs?

If so, this might just be one

Fate. A nasty four-letter word, maybe?

I front-loaded my life. I didn’t mean to. It’s just that I never thought I’d live past 22. And, as fate would have it, when I met him, he felt the same.

I’m not privy to the mystery of signs and synchronicities, nor do I ever want to be. All I know is what I am about to tell you as I remember it. Even 26 years later, I see it clear as day…

Across a dance floor. The lights attached to his face. In a moment, my brain hitched onto a ride. The colors of the lighting design revealed him and I, tripped though spans of time and people on the dance floor to get to him.

He barely noticed. I never forgot it.

From that moment forward, I was committed. Committed to fate. Why? Because when I saw that man, I knew, I just knew. Something in me woke up, and nothing was going to get in my way. And no one could tell me otherwise.

Life had other plans. The plans of breaking my 23-year-old heart. But not after I got Fate tattooed on me.

Am I sorry about it? Nah. I like fate. She’s a tricky bitch, and I can respect that. Sometimes you have to be- humans are complex. Fate might give us signs, and signs are coordinates along the route.

Fate is said to imply a lack of control or inevitability. Destiny is more of a direction of personal agency. (Side note, I have this tattooed on me as well. I guess at a moment in time, I decided I wanted to make the choices.)

I’m not religious. That cult-school education tried to hand me a version of God that didn’t fit. But something did stick. The idea that there is direction.

Not control. Direction.

When I picture it, I think of the tiny figure on the runway waving orange sticks to guide a plane in. From the window seat, they look insignificant. But without them? Chaos. That’s how signs feel to me. They are coordinates- guidance along the map.

Now let’s talk about energy, because this is where people get uncomfortable.

Here’s the simplest version. Everything is energy. Einstein’s equation, E = mc², you know this one. What feels solid—your desk, your body, the inkwell sitting across the room—is actually energy moving very, very slowly.

So when I talk about signs, I’m not talking about magic tricks in the sky. I’m talking about energy responding to energy.

Attention is energy. Intention is energy. When you focus on something long enough, you tune yourself to it. Like a radio frequency. And when you tune yourself, you start noticing what was always there.

Energy can’t be created or destroyed. It only transforms. Which means nothing really disappears. Which means maybe the “coincidences” aren’t coincidences at all.

You’ve read about the zippers. The dead shows up in my seams of reality. I can’t make that up. I’ve seen too much.

The other day, I was sitting at my desk debating how much to say in this post. I have an inkwell sitting five feet away from me. No one in the room. No movement. Suddenly, the ink was thrown off the box onto the floor. That has never happened before.

You can call it physics. You can call it vibration. You can call it a coincidence.

I call it a sign. I was just sitting down to write this, people. It was a sign!

So here’s my challenge to you.

Today, look for a sign, a coordinate in your path that speaks direction to you. Not lightning bolts. Not something dramatic. Just a nudge. Something you’ve been wrestling with quietly. Ask for clarity. Then pay attention.

Do you believe in fate? Destiny?

Tell me your story.

Subscriber Section: The Map Beneath the Signs

If you’re here, you already know I don’t just believe in signs. I study them.