Oh, sweet heartbreak. When I first moved to Portland, Oregon, I came with a heavy heart. I had just ended something with sweet Michael, a man who loved a good story and was committed to living an adventurous life that unfortunately didn’t include me as I authentically was. So off I went, heavy heart in tow, not feeling fully in my bones. 

The thing about heartache is that it can do one of things: 

1. Bring you closer to Spirit and you feel comfy cozy in Their arms

2. Take you so far away that you doubt if anything is really there at all

I was experiencing the latter. I was so. freaking. bummed. And it was the only thing I was thinking about. It was the kinda bummed where your whole body moves slower like that old Photo Booth filter on a Mac laptop where you moved and swooshed. I realized later it had very little to do with sweet Michael and everything to do with a sense of loneliness I’ve always carried with me. I was in the corn maze of my feels with no exit sign. So I prayed for a sign. I needed a freakin big one. So off I went to go write the moonscopes for the company I was working for in a little tea shop on 23rd street. And my sign came suddenly and hit me like a ton of bricks. 

Halfway into my tulsi chai with my nose buried in my ephemeris, the song I’m on Fire by Bruce Springsteen came on. It sounds strange, but it was like time stopped. I’m not sure if I ever heard this song before, but it was like it was playing for me. Sometimes things just call to you, like the person you’re supposed to talk to seems a little more golden than anyone else in the room, or your eyes zero in on a single class description and the rest of the courses on the pamphlet blur.

On this damp, cloudy, October day in Portland, Oregon — I rediscovered God in a tulsi chai and a Bruce Springsteen song. It felt like honey on my heart in the most unexpected way. It was just the medicine I needed because I didn’t feel alone in the world, even if it was for three minutes. I was finally able to move the emotion because I dropped into this truth bomb that came in the package of a random song playing. It wasn’t heavy in me, it just flowed with every lyric he sang. And here’s the thing — I don’t even love Bruce Springsteen’s music, and this song had nothing to do with my particular situation, but Spirit knew to give me a download to a 70s song. Kinda like an automatic update that happens on your phone but it happens with your soul. 

So my challenge for you, my love, is to fully drop into the signs that are gifted to you. They are so obvious in a not-so-obvious kind of way. When you are deep in your experience, ask for a sign. And trust me, your sign will demand your attention. It will break the spell of heaviness even if it is for a moment. It could be a drop of rain that falls in the center of your forehead and wakes you up, or it could be a bird right outside your window, or a giant rainbow, or something someone says in a passing conversation on the street, or it could be the perfect song in the right moment. 

My signs often come in the form of songs and the feelings attached to them. One of my best friends gets her signs strictly from Blue Jays, and wherever she sees them she knows to drop in. Another one gets her signs from Instagram ads (this one takes a particularly dedicated sense of faith). You don’t always need tarot cards or oracle cards, although they are great tools. Your body, your situations, your whole life is an oracle for you. 

So tune into your signs. They are ever changing, but very clear even if you are not always fully open to receive them. But let me tell you love, it will make your heart crack open after it breaks.