The thing is, it doesn’t really matter where you go; once you acknowledge the fact that Magic is a constant and real energy, Magic finds YOU.
I came to a Wyoming town of 10,000 residents to visit my grandma in her quaint countryside neighborhood that sits in a valley between the indigo mountains which always reveal some kind of mystical creature carved out of the snow. (This particular month, the featured creature is an Eagle.) I came to escape the chaos of my own mind, to melt away the anxiety built up in my system as a result of somehow surviving the life of a single solo entrepreneur. It’s working so far—the intensity of both the sun and the moon have raveled my heart and soul in a positive way.
I’ve felt gravity pull my consciousness towards the full moon as night settles in, and the sun’s light pulling the melatonin from underneath my skin as it shines on. I’ve been away from music, away from my disaster of an apartment, away from the hustle of the busiest coffee shop in the state. (Another story about that soon to come.) I’ve completely disregarded and forgotten about the anxiety of my time working there, and the aching of my feet. And so you’d think I’d be in this clear state of mind in which recurring people and numbers don’t mean much to me.
I didn’t ask synchronicity to follow me out of Magic City and into the beauty of this rural land… but it’s found me, even in a town 300 miles away.
Not even 12 hours after my arrival did I experience the crossing path connection—at the county DUMP, of all places. As my 83 year old grandmother had me stationed in standing position in the back of her trunk, hoisting trash bags into the field of other treasures, a familiar face called out of a truck window: “You have Camille throwing trash for you already?” It was my cousin, Brett, pulled up next to us, partaking in the very same duty on this random day in April. We took the opportunity to visit him and his new baby later that day.
As far as recurring numbers are concerned, 220 has been adamant about catching my eye. Every other license plate that flashed before my eyes both in town and on the highway contained 220—keep in mind Wyoming license plates only consist of five digits.While my grandma leisurely drove me around different local locations, each house address I happened to catch a glimpse of was 220. So what is it trying to tell me, here?
This one became obvious to me as soon as I wrote the number out for myself. Earth Day full moon. 22 of April; 0 symbolizing fullness. I cannot say I’ve ever physically felt the gravity of the moon so intensely until last night as my cousin and I sat out of the front porch, watching the moon framed underneath the bare branches of a tree, rising as the sky gradually turned navy blue. As I lay in bed, I couldn’t help but notice how all of the energies around me were SO REAL. Anything I thought, anything someone else thought. I was feeling… dare I say it– psychic.
And it appears that the full moon had some answers for me, delivered straight through the mouth of my very logical cousin 2 years my junior. Our mouths have actually been compared as uncannily similar. I began talking to her about my persistent signs of North Carolina, and she smoothly told me I didn’t have to move there right away.
“See that tree over there? Not the scrawny one, not the short one or the tall one. The medium sized tree. That’s you. You’ve grown just enough to know that most of your roots say Cheyenne.” When did she ever say things like this? “And I feel like 3 is a good number for you. Maybe wait about 3 years before planning a move across the country.” And now with the numbers! How I had underestimated the psychic ability of my little cousin her entire 19 years!
On my walk this morning, the dawn of Earth Day, I strode along the freshly paved gravel road that stretches out to no end. I had no choice other than to make this a meditative walk, eventually regarding the true endlessness of this road. I could have picked any element, but naturally I chose Earth as subject of meditation, oblivious to the fact that this element’s holiday was today. I asked Earth what she thought was best for me, what path she thought I should walk down. What could I do that is best for you? I felt the Earth absorbing my thoughts. Any pending thoughts or unsaid phrases, she would be sure to deliver those straight away. Any desires I held secret, she would send out through her roots and relay my message. And I trusted Earth. It feels too real to deny. She would relay these messages in a timely fashion but in a fashion that also seems suitable to her own desires.
Earth made me realize this was more about letting go of my fears and my worries, surrendering and trusting.