Nature Bats Last

Three Signs in Three Days

Hello Fellow Wonderers,

I hope this story finds you well and living life on easy street. I think of you all so often and want to once again express my appreciation for your subscriptions, shares, and comments, and support. Today’s story of three signs happened very recently. I would love to hear of any signs or coincidences you have seen or felt recently or in the past. I love, love, love it.

A bit of inspiration from Deepak Chopra;

“What is the meaning of coincidence? The deeper part of you already knows, but that awareness has to be brought to the surface. The meaning does not come from the coincidence itself, it comes from you….” From: The Spontaneous Fullfillment of Desire

P.S. It is no coincidence that I walked over to my bookshelf and pulled this old yellowed book down that I haven’t looked at in many years..just to find a message for you and me.

Enjoy the ride……….

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“Where should we start, Henry?” I asked out loud to my spirit son.

I do not expect some wizardry or instant message from the other side. I know we can’t just turn magic on and off like a light switch, but I just like to horse around sometimes and play with conversation. It makes me feel good and jolly, and I recommend it.

I’m staring at a blank page wondering how to write this three-part story in the simplest way possible.

“Start at the beginning,” I imagine Henry to say, with his smooth overtones.

“What? Are you a genius?” I ask on the flip side, as I grin.

Well, we’ll call the beginning….

Part One, The Heart:

This is the part where I decided that writing and publishing these stories is raising my blood pressure.

“Not cool, man,” I can hear Henry say.

Writing about the tender subject of signs from Henry, and working Substack was constantly on my mind night and day whether I was sleeping or eating or driving or walking or….

This constant beat of “to-do” lists was way worse than having an earworm (a song stuck in your head).

My heart would race and I was playing my life at an escalated tempo with no Rallentando in sight.

Playing music and performing was my only escape.

I kept track of my blood pressure and just out of curiosity, added my own bio-feedback technique. I’d make note of the set of first numbers, and then spend 5-10 seconds doing breath work and meditation, and make note of the second set of numbers which were always lower.

My doctor was impressed with my results and with her dietary suggestions and my bio-feedback, we decided to keep on tracking for a stretch. I am hopeful.

Nine and one-half years ago, when Henry died, I read that losing a child would take anywhere from three to ten years off of your life. Such a loss is just too much to bear. Our entire system is weakened…., physical, mental, and energetic. But we had love on our side, and the power of music. I have taken advantage of that and am determined to hold up for a few more extended stanzas.

Part Two, The Agent:

Every penny that flows into our bank account is self-generated. We live and breathe music. That means we write music, record music, perform music, promote music, teach music, rehearse music, sell music, and give away music. The tasks are many; thus, a publicist, a social media guru, a website wizard, a manager, and a booking agent are needed.

We had a booking agent on our team.

And then we didn’t. The wheels of fortune cranked down to a halt.

“Ok. We got this,” we said, rolling up our collective sleeves and pushing on, in search of a new agent.

Part Three, The First Sign:

On a warm autumn Sunday afternoon, my husband and bandmate, Sims, was washing the windows in the family room. Sims has his finger on the pulse of our musical career more than I do, and as he flipped the windows up and out to reach every spider-webby corner, he began to report and ruminate on the recent loss of the agent, and what the new tact will be. I listened as I handed him perfectly torn paper towels.

Our family room windows are surrounded by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Dark brown in color, mostly filled with wood-fired pottery, books, and plants. I stood next to Sims, and in between the squeaks from the clean glass, I got a message to reach out and touch the only shelf that was empty. The gesture felt odd to me, but something someone might do as they listened intently. You know, like the kind of person that keeps their hands busy in a discussion at the kitchen table and keeps touching things, like lining up the salt and pepper shakers, or peeling the wax from the side of the candle?

So my right arm lifted as if it was following instructions, and reached out into the space to touch the shelf. I moved my hand back and forth, rubbing it smoothly.

“Hmmmm, not dusty.”

“Well, one thing for sure, is that we’re not going to worry about money.” Sims said. As he popped the sparkling window back into place with a click.

“Oh my god something’s in here.” I blatted. My first finger touched it and carefully slid it out from the deep dark corner of the shelf. Hidden, impossible to see from anywhere in the room, was a penny.

“A penny! Ha! Thank you Henry! I guess we don’t have to worry about money!” I laughed to Sims as I pinched the penny and gave it a good look. It is a dark, well-loved penny from 1977. The welcomed penny was dropped in the little blue china bowl on my desk and added to our collection of paper clips, dimes, and other pennies from heaven.

The Second Sign,

Late that autumn night, I woke with a sudden start. My chest felt alive, a peculiar and intense sensation spreading across it. My eyes snapped open, piercing the darkness, while a strange, almost humming vibration pulsed through me. It was an energy I’d felt before in moments of deep healing, a kind of buzzing warmth reminiscent of Reiki sessions, but this was more potent, tinged with an edge of discomfort.

"Is this normal?" I wondered, the pressure at my heart making me pause. A mixture of curiosity and concern tugged at me. Could this be helping, or was it something to fear? I told myself, “Just tune in.” And so I did.

For years, I’d been familiar with the subtle healing vibrations that sometimes seemed to reach me from Henry, as if he were sending them from beyond. But tonight felt different—intense and deeply targeted. The energy drifted steadily, like a slow wave, moving from one shoulder to the other, blanketing my chest in warmth. As I surrendered to its rhythm, worry slipped away, replaced by a profound sense of care. I no longer felt pressed by concern but rather held by something gentle and wise. This was a gift, not a threat.

I slept like a big dog, as we say, and woke up ready and willing to take my Monday morning blood pressure check. I relaxed my breath and let the machine do the work.

Voila, low as low could be! Healthy numbers that anyone would be thrilled with. Sims and I clinked our coffee mugs together in celebration. Already a great day.

The Third Sign:

Our days warmed up as we basked in the final 66’ day of Autumn. Tuesday started with another beautifully low blood pressure check and a celebration clink.

I was set on raking and hauling leaves in the afternoon sun. T-shirt and jeans in the balmy breeze took me back to family work days in the Fall. My work came rhythmically and easily as memories of the boys raking huge piles and jumping in them from the tree swing suspended from our giant Oak lightened my heart and also my load.

My anxiousness about writing and publishing had dissolved like sugar. Instead, I felt that life is sweet, gentle, and calm. I floated through the tasks of the day. Patience washed over me. Trust led the way for me.

After seven full tarps of Oak leaves had been hauled from the backyard to the front, I jumped in the pile, laid on my back, and watched the world go by. Not a cloud in the sky and the Robins sang their Fall finale. A memorizing serenade.

I brushed myself off and went inside to fetch Ila and grab her leash.

The two of us flopped out the front door together, into the golden, toasty day. My sneakers shuffled in the unswept carpet of dried, curly maple leaves that surrounded us.

Up ahead, gracing the garden, a patch of open grass flashed a brilliant shade of emerald green. I sauntered toward it, attracted by its vibrant color and summoned by it’s curious design. My toes touched the edge of the leafy outline. I bent over and gently placed my hand on Ila’s chest, giving her the message to not take one step closer.

I hovered over this gem at my feet, like I hover over the rocks on a beach, in search of a perfectly shaped stone. The wind and the leaves presented a perfectly shaped treasure to me.

A keepsake from Henry.

A heart.

And if that isn’t wonderful enough….

This heart remained in the grass the following day, through a thunder storm with high winds. And on the next day with again, very high winds, in which the heart lost its bottom point a bit, but it’s bulk was in tact. Two weeks later, as I prepared to mow, I glimpsed the remaining outline of the heart. I sat down next to it. In awe of it, I touched the soft, exposed grass,and felt peace surround me.