Yesterday, I went into panic mode. The buzzer in the entryway to our building was broken, meaning the delivery person with my important, time-sensitive package wouldn’t be able to let me know he’d arrived and wouldn’t be able to get in. (A package the day before failed to be delivered because of this.)
When my boyfriend left for work and called to tell me a UPS truck was parked several buildings away, I spiraled and considered running downstairs to stalk the truck or try to catch the driver coming out of another building…anything to take control of the situation even though I had zero room in my schedule to chase a delivery person.
Thankfully, something in me told me to calm down and just trust that everything would work out. My energy shifted, I decompressed, and a moment later, my doorbell rang. Despite the broken buzzer, the UPS guy had gotten in somehow, and handed me the package at my door.
And with that, everything changed. What’d I’d seen as a huge problem now felt pretty silly and inconsequential. Everything had worked out without my trying to fix it or force it.
Last week was my friend Diana’s birthday—her first birthday since she’d passed last October. That morning I lit a candle for her and talked to her and cried a lot. Then I felt horrible for feeling so sad. It was a special day, and I should be remembering the good times and feel gratitude for going on this life journey with her when I did. My tribute to her just didn’t feel worthy enough.
I was at my parents’ home in Pennsylvania at the time, and later that day my mom and I went outside to look at the flowers in the backyard. When a small white butterfly flitted around us and the plants, I thought, “Hmm, I wonder if that’s Diana,” and I felt my energy lift. We were headed back inside, but I stopped to consider the lush trees that lined the yard when a bright red cardinal came out of nowhere and zoomed right by me. He was flying low, at elbow level, and it felt like he wanted to be seen.
Cardinals are a special sign Diana sends me, as she had a special relationship with one who hung out in her backyard. The last time I asked her for a sign, a cardinal flew by me as I left my apartment building. I’d never seen a cardinal in Brooklyn before, and that day in my mom’s backyard she told me she’d never seen one around her house.
When I worked with Cosmo the horse on one of my Costa Rica trips, I stood across the pasture from him one day with my eyes closed and attempted to intuitively invite his energy in. Instead of feeling him connect with me or receive a visual of him in my head, I saw static. I became immediately self-critical and frustrated, as I couldn’t understand why the connection wasn’t working. I opened my eyes to find Elisa, the horse I’d connected with a few minutes earlier, standing right in front of me, her face in my face. My teacher laughed and asked if I’d disconnected with Elisa before attempting to connect with Cosmo. I realized I’d forgotten to and hadn’t energetically let Elisa go and centered myself. Once I did and again intuitively invited Cosmo in, Elisa peacefully, physically walked away and Cosmo connected in with me.
I often find it easy to expect things to be complicated, difficult, and frustrating. But every time I move out of that and let go of the story I’ve created, or the worry, or the need for control, everything unfolds in the best possible way. A shaman I know always says we have access to everything—earth energy, animal wisdom, and divine support. It’s true—it’s actually easy to connect and receive messages and assistance. The universe is ready and waiting to deliver everything from packages at our door to cardinals at our elbows. All we need to do is lovingly ask ourselves to get out of the way and let the magic in (P.S.—it never needs a buzzer). ❤️