I Saw The Signs

I believe that everything happens for a reason.

Nothing happens just because and everything has a purpose.

I believe that we humans are given signs regularly to guide our choices and our path if we choose to see them. Whether by God, The Universe, Allah, or Yahweh, everyone has guidance if we open our hearts and inner eye to see them.

Now, I must note that if we were to see every sign given to us, we might go insane so I believe that most of us were blessed to be an average human without the ability to use our third eye. That eye most often is closed and only able to see when we search within ourselves and allow our hearts to be open and free to whatever The Universe is offering us.

But, when we are open and able to accept that we are not alone and that our purpose on this planet is beyond our understanding, that the reason for living is not something we are meant to know while we walk the earth, signs are everywhere.

Recently, I was given some signs. And, at that moment in my life I had been praying and opening my heart to The Universe in the hopes of understanding my current path a little better.

Remember I don’t believe in coincidences. So I firmly believe that what I was asking was given to me and because I was aware and my heart was open, I was able to see and connect the signs.

The First Sign

It was a warm Saturday morning and we were headed to donate our outgrown clothes and toys. Our favorite donation site was open, music streaming out to dance with the Spring air and the high clouds. It was a beautiful day and the two of us were singing together as we pulled in.

As I unloaded our gently loved items to be passed on to another, I saw a sign outside a building across the way offering a membership to a newly opened dojo. Karate was a sport I tried as a young girl and found myself very good at it. The warm memories of counting and practicing, of learning katas and learning how to respect others and ourselves flooded over me. I gained so much from my years as a student that I couldn’t help but remember fondly my time in the dojo. As I glanced into my car, my son was waiting for me, patiently wearing his ninja costume.

My neurons fired and my system connected the dots. My son was in a karate gi, I had fond memories of my time in karate class and we were facing a small dojo that had just opened to the public. So, we crossed the street and went inside.

The dojo was closed to the public that day due to a wedding of one of the senseis but outside were a few parents letting their young ones practice on the dojo floor. The kids were laughing and sharing an warm day together, running in and out of the dojo as friends. The parents noticed me approaching and graciously smiled, welcoming us and explaining the dojo closure.

So caring were these parents and so friendly, I felt at once that this was a place we were meant to be. I would have signed up that moment had their office been open but we waited till Tuesday where we were able to watch a class, my son on the side line copying the students’ moves, anxious to join them.

By Thursday we were signed up and Jake was participating like he was meant to be there.

The Second Sign

I grew up with soccer. I played as a child, coached as a young adult and even found myself an adult soccer team to occupy my time between my hours as a nanny and my long class schedule during college.

Though I was born without much talent, I had a passion for the sport. I found it beautiful when skill and raw ability met on the field. And though I was not a runner and was barely able to get through a game without an injury or a mistake, I played with all my heart.

So, you can imagine my elation when I discovered my son was the right age for Spring soccer this year. I happened to be searching and found that he met the age requirement and instantly signed up.

Well, I was not impressed from the get-go with the league we were getting involved with and that should have been my first sign that this was not where we were meant to be. Between questions about my registration that came up to the email I sent requesting information that went unanswered, those were my first inklings that things were not going to go smoothly.

But I like to think the best and believe that my first instincts aren’t always right…well, sometimes they aren’t right while most of the time that gut reaction is my most accurate one.

It wasn’t until the first game when we were standing on the field, coach-less, lost and with no idea where to be or who was on our team that my gut instinct kicked in and told me to run, run away and to leave this league. But I don’t believe in quitting or in teaching my son to quit. So we stuck it out.

And it wasn’t until the last game after a highly disappointing season when I ended up volunteering to coach due to our absent parent volunteer that the deal was sealed. During the game, a game in which I wanted to enjoy on the sideline as the mother of a team member, I ended up in a verbal brawl with an opposing parent. The moment in which I had to raise my voice and remind this parent why we were all there gave me the last sign to confirm that, though I love soccer and would like to see my son play the same sport, I just don’t think we are interested in being involved in this environment for now.

My Conclusion

Having had such a warm welcome at the dojo and seeing Jake smile and giggle and enjoy his time on the mat was such a contrast to being yelled at on the soccer field for volunteering our time in a poorly organized and run soccer league. I left that soccer game in tears, fearing for a larger confrontation in the parking lot all because I stepped up to be the coach for one hour.

This is not where I want to be. This is not where I want my son to be. And this is not an environment I want him to grow up in. In a place where winning and losing is the only definition of the game. Where learning and friendship are put aside and natural talent is scorned. Where parents find it acceptable to cheat and verbally reprimand another parent acting as a volunteer coach in a casual game with no score, no referees, and no guidelines is not where we want to be.

The signs are there.

And I choose to see them with an open heart.