Signs from the Universe

second year priya desai

photo by lauren friedlander

photo by lauren friedlander

Over the past few years, I’ve started believing the universe is sending me signals. Not any sort of earth-shattering premonitions, but more like this: if I miss getting on a North South bus from Tate, the universe is telling me to take a walk. (I mean, I could probably use the exercise.) Or, if I plan on wearing my favorite t-shirt for the fifth time this month and later realize it needs to be washed, the universe is nudging me in the direction of experimenting with a new outfit. When I look in the mirror in the morning and my hair looks good without the usual 20 minutes of effort, I know it’s going to be a good day. And, of course, if I find a stray eyelash, see a penny heads-up on the ground, or happen to catch a glimpse of the clock at 11:11, my wishes are going to come true.

I choose to see all of these coincidences as signs from the universe. My friends instead find these signs incredibly annoying, especially when we both know there’s another bus coming in five minutes, and we could just be waiting for it instead of making the uphill trek towards Physics. I am willing to admit they do have a valid point.

In the end, I think I want something to believe in, just like everyone else. I’ve never been religious, I don’t practice tarot or collect crystals, and although I’ve also downloaded the Co-Star app to read all about my birth chart, I’m not sure I actually believe in astrology either. Instead, I prefer to convince myself that a universe, one that has existed for millennia before me and will continue unchanged after me, chooses to interfere in the minimal details of my day. Is this realistic? Maybe, maybe not. Does it make me feel better? Definitely.

When it comes down to it, this belief in the power of the universe is all about making myself feel better. My own instincts dictate exactly what these signs are and what they mean for my life. For instance, missing the bus could mean anything. Maybe I should have been walking faster to begin with, or maybe I should be taking that extra moment to breathe and relax while I wait for the next one. Recognizing and interpreting these “signs” is like a choose-your-own-adventure book, except the adventure is my life. And in my life, my instincts are God.

Happy Monday