listen.

I don't know if it's just like a thing where if you believe in something enough it becomes true. Like a horoscope or a lie. But, the past couple of years I've been noticing little patterns pop up that I begin to investigate and they've become little treasures I tuck away as a reminder that I'm on the right path or that everything happens for a reason or it's time to let go or move on. Little nudges. Little signs. That I just tuck away in my pocket and breathe. 

The number 7.

The perfect song coming on at the perfect time. 

A collection of quarters when I hardly ever use cash. 

Ernest Hemingway. 

Dreams. 

Themes.

Conversations. 

I believe in all of them. I don't know for sure what they always mean, some of them are easier to decipher than others, but, I think the point is, I'm listening, I'm watching, I'm noticing, and I thank you.

I went on a trip last weekend that was definitely a four day party, but speckled in between the shots and the dance parties there were moments like sitting on the patio alone and the wind carrying over a man and his guitar singing my favorite Bruce Springsteen song "I'm on Fire" just days after getting a sweatshirt with that album cover on it and listening to the song on repeat on my record player. Like telling a friend about Ernest Hemingway popping up all over my life as she handed a book about him for me to borrow for the beach and going to dinner only to find a huge quote of his hanging on the wall. Or that late night (early morning?) conversation on the balcony with an old, old friend and realizing she still sees you for exactly who you are even after all these years and effortlessly saying the things you've been needing to hear. "You're going to be ok and it's going to be amazing" and "I'm so proud of you for living your life for yourself."

It's just this overwhelming sense of relief when these moments happen. It's a confirmation. A reassurance. A wake up call. 

Never answers. So many questions. But, the point is, I'm listening and I'm open. 

Oh, she's open.