Adventures in Synchronicity: Seeing the Signs

There are three entries I have decided not to share that lead up to this one. They are too raw.  The last entry you may have read ended with, and then I met him. This next portion takes place 13 years after that. 

On December 24, 2022, our relationship ended the way it began, over copious amounts of alcohol. Instead of a passionate romantic flurry, it ended in tumult, with him begging me to come back. It was over; I had some things to work on in my life. I hadn't made any next steps in our relationship for two years; I was too scared. 

On Tuesday, January 3, 2023 I hadn't had a drink in 4 days and made my way to my first meeting during my lunch break. I looked around for signs and didn't see one, so I figured the meeting had been cancelled. Nervous. Instead of seeking assistance, I left. As I walked to my car, my heart pounded in my chest. The voice in my head, "you've gone four days, you can do this. You don't need this." 

The next day, during my lunch break, I decided to go back. The room was packed. I raised my hand. 

On January 4, I recommenced the spiritual journey I had embarked on almost 15 years prior in the Sahara Desert, in Egypt. 

I didn't know it at the time, of course. I entered the room full of arrogance. 

I knew I was smarter than every person in that room. I had two goals for getting sober: 1. to "be healthy" (read, lose weight) and 2. to be better at my job. During those first shares, no one else mentioned their goals - they told their stories of how bad their disease had become. I inwardly laughed that I wasn't as bad off; I was already ahead of the game. If I was going to win it, then I needed to get moving... Sponsor, steps 1, 2, 3 check, check, check.  

Then the fourth step... I moseyed. It didn't matter, though. In my head I had the solution to my alcoholism, a distraction. My new friend; charming, engaging, funny. The alcohol that usually numbed my feelings was replaced with someone to distract me from the emotions I didn't want to face. Honestly, at that time I wasn't even aware that I had been repressing my emotions for so long. 

On July 4, our friendship took a turn. I liked him, as in like liked, my friend.  Between us existed a strange bond that I couldn't figure out. Something spiritual was happening, and I couldn't put my finger on it. 

The signs began showing up the next day. Synchronicities. Nudges. Echoes of something deeper.

I am by nature an extrovert, I love people, I love being around people... but I'm also a quiet person. I'm not shy, my vocal chords emit a soft voice. It's difficult to insert myself in a group of loud extroverts I don't know. 

The next day, I shared with my group that I had gone to a party with my friend and hung out with people I didn't know. I admitted I should not have gone because I was uncomfortable speaking to people I didn't know without my security blanket, alcohol. I was transported back to 16-year-old me, who was awkward and felt like an outsider everywhere. I was safe. I wasn’t scared, just... misplaced. I didn't want to be her again—the girl who needed alcohol to feel like she belonged.

I still went to meetings, but my step work slowed and finally stopped. I stopped seeing my therapist. I had it under control; everything was going great! I could handle this friendship and not take it further than where we were. 

For the first time in years my spirituality was manifesting again.  

This time, I had a willing companion, not just random people who stumble across my blog (I am grateful for all my readers, just fyi). We opened our hearts. The energy of the Spirit moved between us, gently and powerfully. Letting God in after years of disconnection is irresistible. The Spirit floods in—and it needs somewhere to go.

But when we’re not ready to be fully transformed, ego steps in to protect us. We misread the flood as a threat. And rather than surrender, we fall back on old defenses. For me, that looked like attachment. Like clinging. Like spiritual codependency disguised as divine connection.

Our egos whisper that regression is safer than growth. And we believe them.

We begin to idolize the person in front of us, not realizing the gift was never about them—it was always about God. But we get stuck. The moment stops evolving. The sacred spiral halts.

It's no coincidence I stopped doing the work. God needed me to fall into the depths of what appeared to be a bottomless abyss. I believe God allows us all to make our own decisions. The next right thing is always available to us, but sometimes, we decide not to heed the signs.

God gave me a sign, the synchronicity, the omen. I verbalized it, "I feel like I'm at a high school party." 

I was there again, at the precipice of what led me down the path of substance dependency, the path of hopelessness and powerlessness. This time I chose the path that led me to the depths of darkness and self-discovery but this time with only God holding my hand.