Universe

Hi all,
Whether you believe in astrology or not, Clarity, love, miracles? This all sounds pretty awesome to me!
Carry on,
xox

Rare Astrological Event—all of the Planets Align & Turn Direct: It’s Time to Leap.
The Elephant Journal~via Kate Rose

“Be fearless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire.” ~ Unknown
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On Saturday, January 7th, we will experience a rare astrological event—all planets will turn direct.

During most years, at any given time there is at least one planet in retrograde motion, however, it’s not unusual to see a few in that motion as well—but rarely do all the planets turn direct at the same time.

This phase of action will last until February 6th when Jupiter turns retrograde.

The reason that this is such a big deal is that it’s happening in a very auspicious manner. Venus has moved into Pisces, and Mercury is turning direct at the start of the New Year.

It’s clear that this is a time for movement, for action and for exploring whatever it is that has been calling to us for some time.

Astrology is not about a one-time chance that will never happen again—we just have the option as to whether we are going to walk in fully into what is waiting for us, or if we will need a gentle push in the right direction.
What is meant for us will always hit its mark in our lives right on time.It’s not possible to mess up our life’s plan so severely that we feel desperate and without hope. Yet, even with that being the case, sometimes the divine orchestrates such an event that it’s impossible to ignore.

We missed something—something big—something that, quite possibly, we didn’t think was meant for us.
We left it behind in 2016, thinking that it was over—that we were making the right choice and that we had better things waiting for us.

We thought we were being adult about it.
But really, we missed an important part of a conclusion we drew too soon.

The thing is that we can say we are moving on, and that we are going in a new direction, but sometimes—no matter how far we move—the divine force in this world moves us right back to where we were.

With Mercury just ending, a fog is lifting, and there is clarity about a situation we had thought was all figured out—and because Venus, the planet of love, just turned direct in the loving and ethereal sign of Pisces, it seems that there is a matter of the heart that hasn’t yet been decided.

No matter how much we think we know the ending, sometimes the universe shows us that this was only the first act.

This next month—whether we want it to or not—possesses the ability to change everything in an instant.

Where you once felt stuck, things will suddenly fall apart to reveal new information and alternate endings you could never have imagined. Where you once struggled could give way to ease.
And indecision could suddenly become nothing but a faded memory of a time when your head and heart fought battles over your future.

The truth is that no great moment comes without first creating chaos, so the potential is there for January to be like that child’s snow globe that they can’t resist shaking up just to see what might happen next.
But that’s also what we have to remember—none of us knows how this will play out, and none of us knows what the ending of any of this will be.

We are being guided. We are being given clear heads and courage—moments of realizing exactly what is occurring and what those feelings are that flutter throughout your heart.

In February, we will have the last eclipse in a cycle that began last September, so anyone who thinks that they can just leave 2016 in the dust hasn’t really understood that the reality is there are never any true endings.
Situations morph, evolve and transition—sometimes more beautifully than we could ever anticipate.

The one thing that we have to remember during this month is that we aren’t being fooled. Perhaps this month, more than any other in a very long time, we will see clearly the matters of our hearts. We will find the words where we previously struggled, and suddenly sense will be made from everything that has transpired for perhaps the past few years.

Once in a while, there is a stitch in a time—a moment where things just suddenly fall into place. A moment occurs when the planets truly align at the finger of God, and all along we realize that this was his plan.

Perhaps we will finally understand that we were never off course—we’re just blind to the destination.

All of this means something. There are no coincidences—only synchronicities.
It’s been said that we can ask the universe for all the signs we want, but that ultimately, we see what we want to see when we’re ready to see it.

January is asking us just one question: “Are you ready?”
Are you ready to see everything that you were too scared to open your eyes to before? Are you ready see the life that is meant for you?

Perhaps there are no final choices or endings, but once in a while, the universe and God conspire to give us a chance at having the life we’ve always prayed for—our only job is to listen.

Our mission this month is to be open to change, so we can let ourselves be led to where we need to be, instead of planting our feet in resistance.
Because once in a while, miracles really can happen—but only if we let them.

“What good are wings without the courage to fly.” ~ Atticus

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2017/01/rare-astrological-event-all-of-the-planets-align-turn-direct-its-time-to-leap/?__prclt=ituSQnbi
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INTANGIBLE
in·tan·gi·ble
inˈtanjəb(ə)l/
adjective

Unable to be touched or grasped; not having physical presence.
“God seems so intangible”
synonyms:impalpable, untouchable, incorporeal, discarnate, abstract

Settling for the believable.
What?
Why?
No fucking way!

I learned this week that the TED talks want you to have documented proof and data to support your talk.

Fuck. That just makes me mad (no TED talk for me) and worse than that it makes TED a very dull boy.

What about the intangible?

I was reminded this week about certain properties of quantum physics. The fact that everything at the sub-atomic level is made up mostly of …empty space.

Including you and me. And the chair you’re sitting in while you read this.

Yet, we’ve all agreed to see things as solid.

What about the fact that particles make up atoms and yet those atoms contain properties NOT found in particles.
Then atoms gather together and make up molecules yet those molecules contain properties that are NOT present in atoms.
Molecules make up cells and…you guessed it, same thing.

So… we are made up of those cells with all of that unexplainable stuff inside.

Huh.

So far the intangible is waaaaaay more interesting to me than the easily believable. The stuff that adds up. The stuff that makes sense (yawn).

Talk to me more about the abstract, the impalpable; the divine.

“I don’t believe in things that can’t be proven,” said the little shit with the pocket protector.

Oh really Pointdexter? What about dark matter, string theory and the Higgs Boson Particle? Huh?

What about babies?
An egg and sperm collide (and that’s no easy task) and instantly cells start dividing. And somehow contained in those cells are an eyebrow, a penis and a heart that beats. Not only that, the whole thing mysteriously knows how to arrange itself. The penis does’t show up on your face and your heart at the bottom of your foot.

IT KNOWS WHERE TO GO AND WHAT TO DO.
At a cellular level.

It doesn’t arrange itself in a random pattern and become a turnip.
No woman I know of has given birth to a turnip.
Neither has any ape, elephant, cat or chicken.

What plays a role in that? Something intangible?

Where does love come from?
Alaska? Italy? (well, maybe Italy).
Can you order it on Amazon?

Where does it originate?

What about a great idea?
Inspiration? Work of art or piece of music?

I know they are received by the mind, but where do they come from?

Is there a documented storehouse for that?

“Um, hello, yes, I’d like to order two great ideas and if I could get those by Friday that would be great. What? That’s extra?
Fine, put it on my Visa.”

I will not settle for the believable. And neither should you.

Remember we’re all looking for wonder and wonder isn’t even in the same zip code as the believable, the mundane or predictable.

Go ahead TED —ask for data.
You know that white board the study is written on is made up of empty space, right?

Carry on in the most intangible way,
xox

BEFALL:
verb: (used without object), befell, befallen,befalling.
to happen or occur.
to come, as by right.
3.verb: to happen to, especially by chance or fate.

I have become aware of late, that I am a pain in the Universal ass.

I suppose I always knew it, I suspected as much, but today I feel that it has become an undisputed fact.

You see, when I take off on my morning walks, one of the first things I ask the Universe, besides helping me to sidestep the dog poo; is to give me a message — hey guys… you know what I want — show me something I need to know!

That means the Universe has to put down its coffee, get dressed, and pay attention to…me.
The pain in the ass.

If you follow me regularly you are well aware that most days I get jack-nuthin’, (the Universe gets caught up in an article on the Huffington Post) while other times I actually receive some answers in the form of a cryptic haiku on a Post It, a tiny gnome village or a bird-strike omen — you know, the usual.

Anytime I spy something out of the ordinary I pick it up, truly convinced that it holds a message just for me, and today was no different.

It seems our entire neighborhood is under construction these days, developers tearing down the smaller, quaint, 1930’s homes to throw up another two-story, Leave It To Beaver style behemoth.

At eight in the morning the streets are lined with construction trucks, roach coaches…and men. Lots and lots of virile young men.

Now, as a woman, I have a kind of built-in shame meter that makes me automatically cross the street when I see men in tool belts and hard hats. All those years of wolf whistles and cat calls have trained me well.
The thing is, I am no longer the age where I elicit that sort of display of machismo. I am just south of sixty, and even though I am still technically a woman, I’m sure I am older than most of their mothers.

These days they are polite, they smile at me and say “good morning” like I’m their fucking grandma in yoga pants. I haven’t heard anything resembling a catcall in over ten years; (she says with immense resentment) yet, still I run. Middle aged wishful thinking I suppose.
Anyhow…
This cruddy, yellow flash card caught my attention as I jumped up on the curb after sprinting across the street to avoid a construction crew and their catcalls.

I actually ran past it in my zealousness to escape the nonexistent wolf whistles, but once I had seen it I knew I had to take my chances and double back around to find out what it was. When I bent over to retrieve the card I made sure my ass was pointed in the opposite direction of the men, you know, so as not to tease them.

It was the flash card pictured above. It has the word “befall” in middle-school-aged boy scrawl, with a couple of the definitions on the back.

It was trash day yesterday so I’m pretty sure the card had just escaped its fate by falling on the ground. I have to tell myself that to override any guilt I have about sabotaging some kid’s English final by hijacking card #2 with the word befall on it.

Technically I was picking up litter, so calm down.

Befall. What an old-fashioned, Elizabethan kind of word.

“What fate will befall you Janet Bertolus?”
Can’t you guys just hear those words spoken by a handsome King, who wants me to be his Queen (naturally) as I ride off into the sunset on a white horse with a young construction worker who has found me irresistible? Yeah, me neither.

My immediate reaction? Foreboding. Like it was a warning.
But when you throw down a word like BEFALL Universe, you get me thinking. And then I remembered the bird strike, and omens, and the fact that sometimes things that SEEM awful…aren’t.

What if it’s foretelling something magical that’s going transpire by chance or fate? What if befall means: to come as if by right — like I’m entitled to everything wonderful?
Much better, right?

“Great success was to befall Janet Bertolus in the very near future.” Oh, I like that one.

So you guys, what if you were as big of a pain in the ass as I am, and you asked for a sign from the Universe? What word do you think you’d get? Remember, these guys are tricky — nothing is ever obvious.

What fate will BEFALL you this fine weekend? A trip? A graduation? A great meal? The time to curl up with a good book?
More importantly, what are you entitled to?

Aren’t you liking the word BEFALL more and more? I am.

Carry on,
xox

My husband left yesterday for France, for a refined yet testosterone filled few days of car auctions, car parties, followed by a car show.
Can you say Gear Head?

Last night, after delivering the dead weight of both sleeping dogs to their beds, I looked up and was reminded of a mystical motorcycle message that was delivered to me on another night when he was far, far away.

It was a different kind of trip, raw and rugged.
He was pretty much incommunicado, racing in a desert over ten thousand miles away, but things had taken a turn and I sensed he was in danger.

So I asked for a sign, and the Universe, with her wicked sense of humor, delivered a doozy.

It was the second year he had decided to ride with his buddies at Rawhyde, down in South America to follow this crazy-ass off-road, Mad Max style race called the Dakar.

The year before they had the time of their lives, riding in that environment, among all the other idiots, I mean racers, and being worshipped by the locals, who line the route and gather in great numbers at every gas stop, handing them food, babies and cameras to capture the moment.
They are revered, like rock stars.

The riding is treacherously fabulous.
The dirt roads through the Atacama Desert are rocky and rutted and they’re racing next to Rally cars, other motorcycles, and behemoth Russian supply trucks that decided a few years back that they too wanted a piece of the action.
It’s consistently well over one hundred degrees, and they have to cross the Andes via Paseo De San Francisco, which at over 10,000 feet requires them to do what the locals do to offset the altitude – chew raw coca leaves.
While they ride a motorcycle. Yes, you read that right.

It’s an insane cluster fuck, an accident waiting to happen. People die.

But as he’s told me, it’s the most fun he’s ever had with his clothes on.

Here’s a taste in case you’re interested:
http://youtu.be/UYFt7hrMWOg

This trip Murphy’s Law prevailed.
Everything that could go wrong did – and then some. I heard about it in my one text per day. It was often terse and exhausted sounding, sent at the end of another grueling episode of Chasing Dakar.
Let’s just say, things were not flowing, and he was not a happy camper. I felt terrible for him.

The day came to cross over the Andes and because of circumstances too complicated to get into, he and an instructor were leading the group up and over.

The idea is to do it as quickly as you can, spending as little time as possible up at that elevation. Get your paperwork stamped at the checkpoint and GO!
The previous year he’d told me stories of helping other riders back down the mountain, who were literally found laying in the road next to their bikes, sick and seriously delusional from the altitude.
Apparently they’d never received the coca leaf memo.

Knowing all that only made things worse for me when I didn’t hear from him at all that day. Nothing.
The window of time in which I’d usually receive my text had come – and gone. Man, how I would have welcomed one of his cantankerous texts.
I started to worry.

With the phone tucked under my pillow, I laid there – waiting. Once I realized it was asinine to try to sleep, I decided to text him.
Hope you made it safely. I Love you.
I knew he wouldn’t answer, But it made me feel better…for about a minute.

It’s amazing where your mind can go when you’re sick with worry about someone you love.
Mine writes horror movies that could never be shown because of the graphic nature of the gore. They involve motorcycles and danger, blood, guts, and death.
That night I had him lost in the Andes, with no food or water, crazy from the altitude, eyeing a fellow victim like a pork chop. Or dead, his body carried away by the Andes version of a Yeti, never to be found.

I felt completely powerless, and I was making myself sick.

By 3 a.m. I decided to pray. I prayed the tight-fisted prayer of the terrified wife.

Please let him be okay. I even forgive the fact he hasn’t checked in. Please let him be alive. Please give me a sign.

I took a Xanax and finally drifted into a fitful sleep filled with nightmares. In one, the bedroom was filled with an eerie, greenish light. I could see it through my closed eyelids.
No, really.
My eyes snapped open and the room was filled with an eerie green light I’d never seen before. I blinked, then blinked again.

WTF? Slowly I got up to see where the light was coming from, half expecting a ghostly visitation from my dearly departed in the arms of a Yeti. What I found was almost as weird.

We have a 1953 Peugeot motorcycle up on the short wall that separates our bathroom from our bedroom. Yes, you can say it. All his friends do. I’m the coolest wife EVER!
Anyway…
You’re required by law, to have a fluorescent light in a bathroom. I’ve always hated the greenish glare those bulbs give off, so we installed it behind the motorcycle to assuage the inspector – and then had it promptly disconnected.
If you flip the switch, nothing happens.

But not on this night. I came out of my worry coma to find that the motorcycle above my head was impossibly illuminated. By a light that should NOT be working.

I stood there frozen, a shiver ran around the room, looking for a spine to run up, then it found mine.

It was my sign. It had to be. Light…Motorcycle…

Now just to be clear, he’s okay, right? This means he’s alive, not dead.

The exasperated Universe told me to cut the chit-chat and go back to bed. I flipped the switch which was already in the off position, not knowing what to expect, and the light went out.

Later that day, I received a text. It was short, crabby and filled with expletives.  It was the best text of my life
They had become stuck at the top for hours, and things had gone downhill from there (pun intended). But at last they were back at sea level; sleepless, starving, but safe and sound and back in the race.
It ended with Love you, and that’s all that I could see. I burst into large, crocodile tears of relief.

PS. That light has never worked since.

Keep Calm & Carry on,
Xox

Hello my Peeps!
Just wanted to share a quick message. Yep. I got a message from the Universe yesterday.
But I’m getting ahead of myself, because I love this stuff, and I’m excited.

This shit NEVER gets old! I’m telling’ ya!

So as you’ve read, I’ve been a bit blue lately, and I’ve just kinda been following it.
Yesterday, at the car wash I had an Ah Ha moment. You know, just like you do at a car wash.
Complete clarity (and a clean windshield).
It hit me like a bolt of lightning!
I knew what it was! Some old, childhood, feelings had been triggered. I could even identify them.

Security and stability, or lack thereof, and feeling dis-empowered as an eleven year old girl.

Then I had the realization that those feeling were like a program running in the background of my life, and just like what happens with your computer, it was slowing things (energy) down.

Eureka!

Now I’m going to be uncharacteristically non-specific with the rest of the details – for now.
But I know I’m on the right track. You wanna know how I know?

Later in the day I spotted an unopened 2014 calendar of inspirational sayings that was laying on my office desk. It had been hiding its inspiration under a stack of papers and old files. I grabbed the now useless box to throw it away, and then decided to have one last crack at it before it became garbage.

I opened it up, asked it what I needed to know, running my thumb rapidly through the entire year.
When it randomly stopped, I pulled out the page to take a look. What wisdom did 2014 have for me?

“Are you kidding me?!”

Well, that’s a picture of the page above. I’m covered with goosebumps again, just like I was at that moment.

As many times as this has happened to me – it NEVER gets old!

There are signs EVERYWHERE, letting you know if you’re on the right track.
Sometimes all ya gotta do is ask.

Love you guys, Have a great weekend!
Carry on,
xox

Ohhhhh. SNAP! That one’s deep.

Xox

Morning!
Someone asked me to re-post this – as a little reminder to leave some things up to chance…you never know, it could be fun.
Have a great weekend.
xoxJ

Ultimatums are rarely a good idea.

In life, in relationships and when dealing with the Universe.

When we are driven to taking this tactic, hands on our hips, lips pursed, loaded with attitude, wearing our bossy pants…we will lose.
Every time. And we’ve ALL done it.

Think about it, you have set your terms, made your demands and you are promising some kind of retaliation or an end to communication all together, if you don’t get the answer you desire.
First of all, that’s called emotional extortion, that’s a topic for another day.
Still, it seems like you have all the power… butcha don’t….Not really.

The final outcome lies in the hands of the receiver of the ultimatum.
It’s his call, he could end it all. Because YOU said so.
So NOW who’s got the power?

You know what the Universe says to an ultimatum?
“You’re not the boss of me”.

You know how I know that? Because it told me so.

Recently; like yesterday, I was giving the Universe my latest, in the long line of ultimatums I’ve been issuing and that “voice” chimed in:

Me: So, here’s the deal, you’ve gotta do “this thing” or I can’t make all this other stuff happen.

Uni: Don’t give me an ultimatum, you’re not the boss of me, give me choices.

Me: What do you mean, choices?

Uni: Give me your three most preferable choices,in descending order, from best to worst. I’ll take it from there.

Me: Why would I do that?

Uni: To maintain your flexibility. It also allows us to throw you a curve ball. Something amazing, that’s completely unexpected.

Me: But I really, strongly, feel that it has to go down a certain way.

Uni: You are acting stubborn and misguided.

Me: Don’t sugarcoat it, tell me how you really feel…Shit…okay.

After that, I did come up with three alternative scenarios that would work in that situation. Funny, earlier I was convinced there was only one.

So, I shot off a mental memo to the Universe, and sat back feeling relieved. I wasn’t nervously waiting for the shoe to drop, I knew it could go any number of ways and that would be fine.

I AM feeling more flexibility around my expectations.

I’m Gumby dammit!

Now I’ve got to go borrow a baseball mitt, gotta be ready for my curveball.

How about you?

I LOVE when the Universe sends me a love note that says just the right thing at just the right time, don’t you?

This one was so good I had to share it.

So, be impeccable with your thoughts and words, your dreams and desires, because it’s ALL cueing up behind the scenes.

“Janet, do you know what happens in time and space just before something really incredible happens? Something mind-blowing? Just before a really HUGE dream comes true?

All the best,
The Universe”

Sign up to get your own Notes From The Universe:
tut.com

xox

“Miracles are like meatballs because nobody can exactly agree on what they are made of, where they come from, or how often they should appear.”
― Lemony Snicket

Hi my loves,
Here’s another WTF Friday miracle story. And it’s a GOOD one.
It’s been in my head, writing itself for days. I haven’t thought about it for over twenty years so it’s persistence proves to me that it’s a tale that wants to be told.

It shows how the Universe will take care of us NO MATTER WHAT when we are on our path. 

That being said, I will endeavor to tell it as I remember it, without embellishment, exactly as my mini Yoda, pocket-shaman relayed it to me.

He told me the story one rainy afternoon as he was brewing a pot of something that smelled like a combination of the bottom of a cat box and the inside of my high-school gym locker. He would roll his eyes and stare at me with complete exasperation, as I literally gagged that shit, I mean tea, down every day, with the promise that it would help me feel better. Remember, I wasn’t doing so well energetically at that time, and he was the humor-free shaman that the Universe had assigned to my case.

So…here goes.
Once upon a loooooong time ago, T,  (my Yoda) traveled the world for years with the intention of soaking up knowledge from different teachers and learning ancient healing techniques that in remote parts of the world are only passed down verbally.

As weeks turned to months and months to years, he had started to run out of money and was exhausted both mentally and physically.

He couldn’t remember exactly which country he was in, Nepal, he thought, when he found himself walking many hours on a rocky dirt road, looking for a place to eat and potentially stay the night.

“On that kind of journey, you often stay in local people’s homes” he explained, “Trading something you’ve gathered along the way for a bite to eat and a place to rest your weary bones.” He had collected a couple of beautiful scarves, precious beads, dried fruit, and chocolate, things that were easy to carry and could be used in lieu of currency.
He also offered a healing when appropriate.

As he tells it, he was hiking along, in a kind of walking meditation, on a steep mountain road, when he suddenly looked up and saw a tall tree next to a wall with a huge wooden door. He swears it appeared out of nowhere.

A Monastery perhaps? he thought.

He stood in front of the wooden door for a long time after knocking.

Nothing. No answer.

He knocked again, louder, three more times with no reply before he walked away.

Five or six steps up the path he thought he heard the creaking of heavy wood and straining metal. He turned around to see a very tall man in long robes standing at the entrance.

He tried all the local dialects in an attempt to communicate with the man, but to no avail.  It was then that he noticed the intricate embroidery on his robes—which meant he wasn’t a monk, so this wasn’t a monastery.

He acted more like a doorman, silently nodding and gesturing for T to go inside.

He was intrigued and decided to comply. As he walked past the giant, dandily dressed man, he was surprised to feel how much cooler it was inside the dark shadows thrown by thick stone walls.  It appeared to him to be an ancient and enormous labyrinth of rooms.  He could hear birds singing and the trickle of fountains and everywhere he looked were elaborately colored tile walls. The floors were covered with Persian rugs made of ceramic tiles as the silent gentleman-doorman led him down a long hallway to a large bed chamber that was set up like a spa.

One side of the room was dominated by a thick, cushy mattress sitting on the floor that was overtaken by tons of large pillows and surrounded by voluminous drapes of fabric.  On a round table covered in mosaic tiles was a pitcher of water with fresh limes, and bowls of figs and dates. The other side had a large step-down tub/pool with a private bathroom, which was highly unusual.  In that part of the world, the baths and toilets, which were generally holes in the ground, were most commonly shared.

The man motioned for T to put down his heavy pack and rest.

T tried to explain that he had almost no money and that even if he did he could never afford to stay in such a grand establishment, for this could never be someone’s home, it must surely be the most beautiful hotel he’d ever seen.
But before he could finish… without a sound…the man was gone.

When he sat on the bed to figure out what to do next, he realized just how bone-tired he really was. The next thing he remembered was waking up surrounded by the long shadows of dusk.
After enjoying the facilities, soaking in the deep pool of cool, clean water and putting on fresh clothes, he left the room in search of the tall quiet guy or anyone else who may be in charge so he could apologize for falling asleep and give them what little money he had left.

The place was huge, covered floor to ceiling with ornate tile which left him visually disoriented while attempting to navigate a very complicated floor plan that kept leading him back to what appeared to be a large dining room.

The long table was surrounded by many chairs and lit by the glow of numerous candelabras. It was also completely covered, end to end—with food! Steaming hot plates of saffron rice with raisins, sauteed eggplant, and different meat dishes with flat bread and fruits of every variety.

He noticed only one place setting, it was at the head of the table. This must be a feast for the owner of the establishment he thought. Good, now I can talk to someone, and maybe get a bite to eat.
The smell of all the delicious food was making his stomach churn with hunger.

Just then the silent gentleman appeared.  T took out his money and started asking if it would be possible to talk to the owner and get something to eat; but the man again motioned for him to be seated at the head of the table. Bewildered, T sat down and the man with no words started to serve him. Guessing by now that maybe the lovely man had taken a vow of silence or was profoundly deaf, he ceased talking and started eating, figuring the owner or some other guests would come along soon, (even though he hadn’t seen another soul), allowing him to clear things up.

Certainly all this incredible food wasn’t just for him.
But it was.

The way he told it, that night was some of the best food and wine he’s EVER tasted.
And it was the best bed he’s EVER slept in, and the deepest sleep he’s EVER slept.

I can’t remember exactly how he discovered it, I think he saw the date on his watch, but at some point, he realized that when he woke up at dusk that first day, he had actually slept over 24 hours and it was dusk of the next day!
“No wonder I was so hungry.” He said, laughing.

Back at the Villa, he wandered around, getting lost in its beauty, never seeing another soul. He spent his hours admiring the opulence, swimming in the pool of clear cool water, eating whatever and whenever he felt like, and resting—deeply— something he hadn’t allowed himself to do for many months.

Occasionally, he would see the quiet man whom he had stopped trying to communicate with.
They seemed to do just fine without words.

He could have stayed in this Nirvana forever, but after three days he decided to leave, lest he take advantage of his benefactor’s generosity.
As he was leaving, he wrapped all his money and some valuable red amber beads in the best scarf he had, and put it on a table by the door. It wasn’t nearly enough for all the luxury afforded him, but it was all he had.

The days of rest he’d gotten gave him a new sense of purpose and he was able to do some healings to earn money, so he continued on his journey.

He figured it was about a year later when he was passing through that part of the world again that he wanted to go back and stay at the beautiful retreat. This time he had plenty of money to pay!

He climbed the steep  and dusty road, remembering all the twists and turns until he found himself suddenly at the top.
He must have passed the place while lost deep in anticipation of the food and wine, although that seemed impossible.
He walked back down the road slowly and deliberately now, finally seeing the tree to his left….but no wall, no large wooden door, and absolutely no villa.

He stood there for a long time, doubting himself, knowing he was standing in the exact right place.

He would NEVER forget this road and that tree with the giant door and the man who never spoke.

After awhile another traveler, an old man with a skinny goat, walked into view.
As the man passed, T asked him what had happened to the grand villa that had stood right in that spot just a year ago.

“I am a very old man, and I’ve lived at the bottom of the hill all my life, and I can assure you, there has never been any building, let alone something grand on this road”.

T thanked the old man, handing him several bags of almonds, and stood there mystified for some time. Eventually, he made his way back down the hill and stayed in town with the old man and the goat.

“The Universe provides just what we need when we need it” he assured me with the conviction miracles instill in people who have been beneficiaries of just such an event.

That is just one of many, many meatball miracles that happened to him on that journey to seek wisdom. The Universe provides.

I love that story. How about you?
Xox

* I wish I’d written this. Let it sink in.
Happy Saturday,
Love, love,

Xox