By Terri Amador
You know what’s funny? It’s funny how we are always looking for signs, as though signs confirm our luck or lack thereof. I’m not talking here about the common directional signs such as “Gas station 500m ahead,” or “Psychiatric testing this way.” No, I mean signs that we think are cosmic even when logic says otherwise.
Met a guy at a bar last night. Caught bestie’s bridal bouquet today. (He’s the one!)
Hailed a cab with body number 777. Driver’s name is Jesus. (Will get home safe!)
Broke up with the boyfriend three days ago. Cracked an egg with two yolks this morning. (We’re so getting back together!)
Got zero money in the bank, but left palm itches and a gecko sounds off in the distance. (Definite signs of a windfall!)
Perhaps it gives us comfort to think that the Universe is looking out for us after all. That we haven’t been left to fend for ourselves with nothing but literal signboards to guide us. That’s just too pedestrian! We like to think we’re so chummy with Lady Luck we can invite her to a Tupperware party and she’d come. We think we’re so tight with her, she sends us a postal notice before the package.
The butterfly that flits about? It’s not just an insect; it’s a harbinger of good news.
The cricket that miraculously got in the house? It’s chirping cold cash.
The brown spider lurking in a dark corner under the sink? Very, very auspicious.
I look for signs myself. Once I wanted to know if the guy I was dating was The One, so with eyes shut, I opened a book, and pointed to a random word on the page. DOOM, it said. Obviously not the word I was hoping for, so I tried again, making a mental note that it’s the word right under my fingertip and not under my fingernail that was going to be official. BEAST, it said. Still unsatisfied and thinking the third time would be the charm, I pointed to yet another word on another page. APOCALYPSE, it read.
Maybe it would have helped if I didn’t open the Book of Revelations, but those were clear signs of trouble.
Nowadays, I look more for physical signs that are more easily read. Stove flame burning a reddish hue means I’m running low on cooking gas. Dogs staring up at me without blinking means it’s time to feed them. A disconnection notice in the mailbox means I have to pay something…and quick.
But don’t get me wrong, I haven’t given up on otherworldly signals. I still try to be extra sensitive to their presence especially at times when I need a little pick-me-upper. A wink from Lady Luck is always welcome, and the sound of that gecko at the back of my house is music to my ears. Ka-ching!
Terri Amador, a.k.a. The Lady on the Pink Bike, is a bike-to-work advocate who thinks she will be inspired to write essays that can help reverse global warming or, at the very least, contain even half a cup of sense. But don’t count on it.
