This story still lives vividly in my mind.
I was about to fall asleep when a question came to me:
“Show me a sign—a pair of blue swans—that this endeavour aligns with my true path.”
And then I let it go.
I didn’t search for the answer.
I didn’t question it again.
I simply continued living.
That was at the beginning of spring in 2024—a season when I often feel my creative spark most alive.
A few months later, I flew to New York for my cousin’s wedding. I arrived weeks before the celebration so I could spend lavish time with my family.
When I saw the wedding invitation, I immediately noticed its beautiful design.
Inside the folds was a pair of blue peacocks.
I smiled.
“I asked for swans,” I thought, “but I’ll take that. They’re both birds.”
The following weekend, I attended a family gathering at a house with the beach in its backyard.
I took a walk along the pier in my orange dress, my hair moving with the wind.
And then I turned my head.
There they were.
A pair of large, beautiful swans gliding across the water toward the shore.
And suddenly, I remembered the question I had asked months earlier.
My body responded before my mind could create a theory about it.
My face softened.
My spine naturally lengthened.
My shoulders dropped.
My belly relaxed.
A soft inner smile appeared.
There was no dramatic announcement.
No voice from the sky.
Just a quiet and unmistakable sense of:
Yes.
For me, this was what alignment felt like.
Not excitement alone.
Not urgency.
Not the pressure to chase.
But coherence.
The body seemed to gather itself around something it recognized.
Full steam ahead.
You Don’t Do Your Intuition. You Be It.
For a long time, I thought intuition was something I needed to learn how to do.
But that wasn’t the right question.
The more useful question was:
How do I become available enough to notice what I already know?
Intuition does not necessarily arrive through analysis.
It can arrive as a subtle bodily response.
A pause.
A contraction.
A sense of ease.
A sudden clarity.
A feeling that something is alive.
This doesn’t make logic unnecessary.
Logic can help us evaluate, organize, and act.
But intuition speaks through another kind of intelligence.
Embodied intelligence.
The intelligence of sensation.
Perception.
Pattern recognition.
Memory.
Relationship.
Attention.
The body is constantly receiving information.
The question is whether we are present enough to notice it.
When we return to the present, something important can happen.
We stop relating to life only through what is missing.
We begin to notice what is here.
The body may soften.
The breath may deepen.
The shoulders may release.
Sometimes the sign is not something we find—it is the quiet knowing we finally allow ourselves to hear.
The senses may become more available.
And from this place, life can become easier to receive.
A conversation we would have missed.
An opportunity we might not have recognized.
The beauty already surrounding us.
The love already being offered.
The information our intuition has been quietly communicating.
This is what abundance increasingly means to me.
Not that life gives me everything I want.
But that I become capable of experiencing what life is already giving.
A soft body doesn’t guarantee abundance.
But a defended, distracted, or chronically absent self may struggle to receive what is already available.
Presence creates receptivity.
Receptivity creates participation.
And participation allows life to move through us.
Presence Makes You Locatable
Perhaps the greatest gift of being here now is not that the universe can suddenly find you.
Perhaps it is that you can finally find yourself inside your own life.
When our attention is scattered, parts of us are everywhere.
In the past.
In the future.
In fear.
In fantasy.
In regret.
In expectation.
But when we return to the present, something gathers.
Our attention returns.
Our senses return.
Our body returns.
And suddenly, we are locatable.
Not necessarily to the universe.
But to the life that is happening.
We can hear the conversation.
We can feel the room.
We can recognize what matters.
We can notice the opportunity.
We can respond rather than merely react.
We can receive.
Presence makes us locatable to life.
What My Body Knew
I cannot tell you with certainty what the swans meant.
Perhaps they were simply two swans gliding across a lake.
Perhaps the meaning existed because I gave the moment my attention.
Perhaps synchronicity is less about proving that life is sending us messages and more about becoming intimate enough with life to recognize when something moves us.
What I know is what happened in my body.
I felt ease.
I felt coherence.
I felt a quiet sense of recognition.
And that was enough.
Years later, I have come to understand something that I could not have articulated then:
You don’t do your intuition. You become available to it.
You ask.
You listen.
You live.
You notice.
You stay with the sensation.
And sometimes, when life offers you a moment that seems to speak directly to the question you once asked, you don’t need to force yourself to understand it.
You simply notice what happens.
Your shoulders drop.
Your breath deepens.
Your body softens.
Something in you says:
Yes.
And perhaps that is intuition.
Not a voice telling you who to become.
But the quiet recognition of what already feels true when you are finally here enough to receive it.
