Signum Est!

I'm obsessed with signs.
If you've been following me for a while, or know me even a little, that much you know about me for sure. And I don't necessarily mean street or shop signs, although a number of them have played significant roles in my life. Nevertheless, these more mundane signs can be quite magical depending on when and how I encounter them, and I encountered a great deal of them on my recent travels. If I hadn't I wouldn't have been able to go anywhere or do anything.
All of a sudden signs and maps became my favourite human inventions. Before my sojourn I hadn't fully realized what a fabulous human construction a map is. But now I do. Being able to read and follow a map saved me a lot of time and trouble while I was abroad. A map is surely the most international language there is. It doesn't matter where someone comes from, reading a map is the same for everyone. Thank goddess for that. When I couldn't communicate verbally with someone in the most visited city in the world, I just pulled out my well-worn map, pointed to where I wanted to go, waved my arms around a bit, and wouldn't you know, they figured out what I was trying to say. They pointed to the "you are here" place I needed to know, and voila, I was able to continue my long, winding walk to wherever it was I was going. I learned to love and appreciate the beauty of a map and all the knowledge and history it contains.
I had to do a fair amount of cross-referencing with my maps, of course. I was constantly matching the names and signs on the maps I was using with the ones on streets and buildings. I spent a lot of time being genuinely lost, because I couldn't always find one or the other to match them up and hence know where I was. No wonder I fell in love with maps - I spent so much time with my nose buried in them and learning all their intimate details. And of course I translated my new-found love of maps to my long-time love of signs. Signs that point the way. Signs that give a warning. Signs that reassure me that I'm on the right path, or not. Signs that are messages from the earth, the solar system and the universe, both physically and metaphysically.
I have a habit of frequently bursting out with the loud and enthusiastic observation "It's a sign!" Sometimes I'm making fun of myself, but most of the time when I see something I consider to be of metaphysical significance, (only to me, of course) I will gleefully shout those words. After my ejaculation I'll frequently be asked "a sign of what?" But the thing about signs is they're so personal, and the connections I make will seem so obscure to other people. The messages I receive from the Universe are meant for me and my path, and not some stranger sitting next to me who lives in a world of their own making.
My preoccupation with signs defines my own little world. It also expands it, to include the unseen world, and my imagination. (Many magically-challenged people would suggest the unseen world I'm always looking for is my imagination.) I confess that my obsession can make me appear flaky and not really grounded in reality, and goddess knows I seek balance as much as magic these days. The only way to achieve balance is to spend more time standing firmly on the earth - hence the yoga - and less time taking off on flights of fancy. I recognize that, but I can't help being thrilled when I see a physical object, natural or man-made, or a person or animal that's loaded with personal connections to issues and matters that preoccupy me. It's also called synchronicity, and whenever my life is what I consider to be especially "magical," synchronicities abound. I love it.
I travelled lightly and tried to keep my purchases and acquisitions to a minimum. Every time I bought something, I left something else behind. My carry-on suitcase probably weighed less at the end of my trip than it did at the beginning. My few purchases were usually necessary items, but from the beginning I knew I wanted to find a beautiful pen. I'm a pen person. My name isn't Penwyche for nothing. I'd been on a search for the perfect memento pen when I came upon a stationery shop sign that said Signum (Latin for "sign" or "signature"). The shop was closed because it was late at night, but I made a point of remembering where it was by consulting my map and marking it. I went back to the shop the very next day and found the pen I'd been looking for. I was certain I would, because of the sign, of course. Since that day I no longer say "it's a sign!" Nosiree. I've stopped that ridiculous habit. Now, whenever happy little synchronicities appear to me, I'll cry out "Signum est!" (L. it's a sign)
All through my sojourn I was waiting for a single moment of profound meaning. A pivotal moment. A miracle. That's the way I pretty much go through life anyway, so of course I'd be even more vigilant when I was journeying abroad. Well, that pivotal, defining moment never happened. I couldn't tell you one specific incident or circumstance that could be described that way. But I'm not disappointed. Not at all. As I look back on my time away, the story I lived out was filled with multiple magical moments. Each small, seemingly insignificant event led seamlessly to the next. One synchronicity was woven into another. I almost missed these precious little secrets because I was looking for that isolated, illusive, miraculous, life-altering event. Although it didn't happen, my attention to details and the small wonders they revealed reaffirmed my belief in the sacredness of creation more than ever. As I follow the thread of all the signs, big and small, that came to me on my sojourn, I can clearly see a map of my inner journey. I may be the only one who can decipher it, but that's why I like it.
Yup. My trip was a real trip.
- G.P.