Waiting on A Sign

A few days ago, out of the blue, during a big ole depression-funk most likely fueled by the fact that I’d been working by myself in my apartment for the past 6 months, I received a flash from the Cosmos:

“You should learn sign language.”

Now, I think sign language is awesome and yes I should learn sign language, but I’ve never had any inclination to go out and actually, you know, learn it.

But sometimes you’re chucked big fly-balls from the Universe-At-Large and you just have to try and catch them, or the U.A.L. will keep bonking you over the head with them until you’re sprawled in some hospice bed wondering what the hell happened and why you’re so regretful and wearing a feces-filled diaper while the ghosts of your gut instincts and intuitive thoughts stand around you, flipping you the bird.

But life is life and I forgot about the message. Because I’m human, I’m almost 50, and I’ve got a lot going on. Mainly watching TikTok videos and Googling jobs I am not qualified for.

This morning I went to take my daily walk in the bright autumn sunshine with one intention: to manifest some stuff. Headphones firmly jammed in my ears and volume set at an all-time high, I was into it people. It, being myself. I’m talking WAY into it. Listening to motivational speeches on podcasts. Jamming to pulsating inspirational music. Feeling my heart racing and my feet pounding and thinking about all of the awesomeness I was going to create in my life. All the weight I was going to lose. All the brilliant pages I was going to whip off and publish.

I was so into manifesting for myself, that I ended up speed-walking right past a group of three women. I didn’t pay them any attention, me being caught up in my Big Life Plans and all, and almost missed the moment altogether– until I spotted a hand fluttering in my peripheral vision. I stopped and watched one of the three women sign to the others, all completely oblivious to my presence. Or signing about me and how creepy I was being by standing around on a nice morning, staring.

I’m pretty positive it was the latter.

So yeah, that got my attention and yes I remembered the “You should learn sign language” whammy from wherever, and it all seemed to make sense on some level. But suddenly I was nervous and bashful and self-judgey. And rather than smiling and gesturing something pleasant, or attempting to converse, I turned around and scurried away in a panic.

But the U.A.L. has having none of that. I got about three yards before being bombarded with “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? You turn around, you go politely ask them how to say good morning, and you say thank you, you big dummy. Do it right now!”

So even though I didn’t really want to, and even though I felt like a big bothersome nerd doing it, I ran back down the block, and taking a wide berth so as not to startle my fellow humans, I waved the ladies down.

I yearned to just sprint past them and hide behind a new construction site until sundown, but miraculously, they stopped and silently stared as I babbled. All three pointed to their ears in what I am thinking is the universal sign for, “We are deaf, we can’t hear you, you terrifying lunatic.”

The freight train of humiliation had officially left the station so I figured, what the hell. Let’s do this.

Pulling my ear and patting my chest and touching my lips and smiling, I tried miming my general request.

Thankfully one of the women read lips and took pity on me. “You want to learn how to say good morning?” she said.

I nodded and prayed they wouldn’t run away.

They didn’t. They smiled, all three, and spent the next few minutes patiently teaching me.

And at 930 am on a beautiful Sunday morning, in the year of 2020, I learned my first ASL phrase.

“Good morning.”

My second was, “Thank you.”

Which seemed to be the exact same sign as “good” but I’m new here. We’ll get it.

I guess what I’m saying is try not to ignore those positive thoughts that the Greek Gods or the the U.A.L. or your Higher Power or your Inner You put in your head.

They are placed there for a reason.

And even if you feel like a big idiot running down the street while trying not to terrify a group of people by asking for their help, you go do it.

You take the headphones out, you open your eyes and you try to connect.

I think that’s how we grow.

I think that’s why we’re here.