Signs on the Breeze

There’s something I’d like to whisper—something a little woo woo, maybe, but deeply real to me. Over the years, I’ve come to recognize a quiet form of reassurance from the universe—odd, circumstantial signs that arrive just when I need them most. It’s as if something, or someone, is letting me know that I’m cared for, that I’m on the right track—even when I don’t feel like it.

Sometimes life feels messy. Sometimes I’m just tangled in my own perfectionism—my tendency to want things a certain way, my stubbornness disguised as persistence. But often, through that mess, something strange and beautiful happens: a sign, a moment, a reminder. In my life, it often comes in the form of a feather. Not just any feather—but a dove’s.

The mourning dove has become a personal symbol. Their grace, their presence, their way of moving through the world defies logic. And somehow, when one of their feathers appears—dropped gently in the middle of a walk, at the edge of a step, or beneath a tree—it feels like a breadcrumb trail. A quiet confirmation that I’m not alone. That I’m allowed to walk forward confidently, even when I can’t see what’s ahead.

It’s oddly poetic. Long before I ever saw Forrest Gump, I felt this way. But I’ve always loved that scene—the feather floating through the air, Forrest saying:

“I don’t know if we each have a destiny, or if we’re all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I think maybe it’s both.”

That line hits home. I think maybe it is both. That we’re guided, and yet still free. That we’re meant to walk a path, even when it’s not always visible.

This past week, I saw several of those reminders. And I realized that, since I was a child, I’ve been collecting them—not just physically, but emotionally. Each feather, each moment, each little sign has helped keep my head and heart together. A small reassurance that life will work out, even when I’m not sure how.

So if you’re reading this, I hope you find your version of a feather too. Something simple, subtle, but meaningful enough to remind you: you’re not lost. You’re right where you’re supposed to be.

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Synchronicity of Events: A Time to Pause, Break, and Listen

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From “Stuck” to Strides: Looking Back, Looking Ahead