There are signs.
For me a red dot that I created for Manna (from Heaven) a business I built with love:
when Manna was gone, I saw it again with a crescent below in the children's support group where I decided to volunteer to help underprivileged kids:
and when eventually I felt like I could be engaged in real work, I found it again in the logo of my new and current workplace, this time or on its own :
When I see them, I feel like I am being guided. I think they are telling me that I am where I am meant to be. I think that they're an invitation to engage.
I thought this out loud in front of friend and he laughed saying that it was like an episode of Doctor Who. His sarcasm and exasperation pierced me a little.
I wondered if I was wrong. Maybe, i thought, there are no signs.
But my belief in their meaning and in their existence remained unshaken. I made up my mind that when I see these signs I'll pay close attention.
'Tell me, I thought', 'tell me what I need to know. Show me.'
There are Angels.
Feathers.
Numbers.
Names.
Poets.
Flowers:
and Symbols:
They tell me that things are going to be good. That there's a reason for me being where I am.
And they surround me.
In Williamsburg, Brooklyn:
In New York City:
In San Diego at the Convention Centre (111 West Harbour Street):
Painted on to the last wall of the last cave high in the cliffs of the red rocks of Sedona:
Now more than ever I believe that I've been calling angels down to earth.
And I don't need a reason.
It's what I believe in. And I believe I need them.
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In the last three weeks I watched complete miracles occur in my life: people who I dreamed would contact me, contacted me - without me knowing their personal e-mail address or them knowing mine and we met -alone for the first time - in New York City.
My plane was due to land at 12:06, but arrived early. We touched down at 11:11.
I went to the UN. Just like I saw I would.
And prayed hard for Israel and for Palestine.
Four days later I met, sitting next to me at a conference event in San Diego, someone who runs peace camps in Israel and in the West Bank, joining children and young people together in peace initiatives - she said she wanted very much to share the project with one person in particular to help in advancing the message of peace. That person was the person I met in NYC.
I went to lunch with a girl I felt a good connection to who turned out to be the lawyer of the publishing group I was at the conference to visit, and when she told me her birthday it was 11/11.
I went to Sedona. And found thistles and cairns amongst the red red rocks. Telling me something about why I am in Scotland.
I met a man who held my hand and who took us to caves built high on the edge of the red rock cliffs. And when he led us to the last cave in a labyrinth of caves, making me feel unafraid and safe and sure, cliff hopping with care but with no fear from one ledge to the next, what I saw painted on to the 300 million year old rock of that cave wall was a red dot with a crescent below it. Painted on to the wall as I stood and looked at the canyon and creek below me, the blue sky outside me and the swallows swooping across the opening.
There I think I found my name.
As I left Sedona and considered what I thought had just happened, a white car pulled up before me with the number plate 11:11.
And when I arrived in Newark NJ, and made my final exit from California until next time, the signs around me said, once, then twice then three times in big letters: 'GATE 111'.
Now more than ever I believe that I've been calling angels down to earth.
They're telling me that I am where I am meant to be. That there is something of meaning and of connection in this place for me. They tell me not to be afraid. Not to run away. To stay and to learn what I am being taught no matter how intense, how frigthening, how new the experience.
They tell me that I need to BE HERE NOW.
Through time and space.
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