Send me a sign

I was reading my friend Diane's blog, where she happened to mention Free Will Astrology (which I love, btw, but didn't know could be found outside of The Stranger). According to Rob Brezsny, the stars had something in store for me.

In 1982 I moved into a new home in Santa Cruz. It was just a funky old cottage that had once been a barn, but I was ecstatic to have it. As I opened the front door to begin my first day there, a violet-crowned hummingbird bolted inside in front of me, stayed for a few minutes, then departed. I regarded its visit as a phenomenally good omen, and it turned out to be just that. During my years in that house, I wrote my first book, recorded my first music album, fell in love with the woman I married, and conceived my daughter. Almost exactly 24 years later, I'm meditating on your horoscope as I sit in my current abode. "Send me a sign," I just said to the gods. "What's in the works for Cancerians?" Now a violet-crowned hummingbird is dancing exuberantly in front of my window, peering in, lingering a long time. I take it to mean you're at the beginning of a great opening.

This message touched me in a profound way. On my list of things to write about was an experience I had at Seward Park recently (which is a very magical place for me). I asked for a sign. I was given so many that it would have been impossible not to notice. I came to a realization that I was already starting the process of making changes that I wanted to.

At the exact moment that I said this out loud, a huge dragonfly came and flew right in front of my face. I stood there and watched it, knowing it was a sign. I had not seen a dragonfly since I was a child. A second later, 5-6 dragonflies swarmed around me. I stood still and just watched them in awe.

I continued walking and saw a squirrel climbing a tree. At first, the squirrel looked scared, like he might run away (as squirrels tend to do once they are seen). But he just sat there, looking at me for a minute and then scurried away. I kept walking. By this time, it was too much for me to dismiss. I knew it meant something.

I walked further down the pathway and I saw two sparrows sitting in the middle of the pathway. Again, the birds just looked at me and dind't fly away.

Next, I saw a heron perched on its pole. (Usually, at Seward Park I might see one animal--never this many, and I saw them all within just a few moments of each other). I walked to the end of the loop where my car was parked and decided to sit down and write about what had just transpired. I was surrounded by geese, which I didn’t think anything of, as there are always geese playing at the edge of the water.

As soon as I finished writing and picked up my pen, a butterfly flew directly in front of me, hovered for a second, and flew away.

How’s that for acknowledgement that I’m at the” beginning of a great opening?”