The Universe’s Message is Received, Loud and Clear


Photo courtesy of Yann | Wikimédia France
As a feng shui practitioner of nearly a decade, there have been many times over the years where I have used feng shui to create movement in my life. But, sometimes I reflect on the times that my life has used feng shui to create movement in me.

I really believe that sometimes the Universe decides you are not moving fast enough toward a goal and decides to intervene. Maybe you are in a dead-end job or a dead-end relationship. Maybe life has become stagnant in some other way. Then all of a sudden, something occurs to completely shift your reality. You get laid off or fired. Your relationship ends. You get the idea. 

On September 11, 1999, I got married. That fall, I bought my Geo Prism. Two years later, when the Twin Towers collapsed on our anniversary, I thought, “Well, this doesn’t bode well.” It didn’t. Two years after that, we got divorced. That fall, my Geo Prism, with its failed transmission, was towed away. The magic day it was towed away? September 11. I couldn’t have planned it that way if I wanted to. I thought it was appropriate since it was my “marriage car.” I also thought the circle was complete.

Well, much has happened in my life over the last seven years since that day, including my union with my wonderful partner. But healing needs to happen on many levels. And apparently, when you need a little push in the right direction, the feng shui “Forces” come in and do their work. 

A few years ago, on September 11, 2007, I parked my car – a sporty, little, red Pontiac Grand Am that I purchased after the Prism died – in front of my shop and healing center, Sacred Rearrangements, on Lyndale Avenue. I was not normally there on that day, but I had a business lunch meeting. My partner Keith picked me up and we went off to our favorite restaurant to sip chai and talk business. When we returned two hours later, Keith pulled into the back alley. In my peripheral vision, I caught a glimpse of my ’99 Pontiac.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” is all I could say. Keith reminded me to breathe, the word that was ironically embroidered on the shirt I was wearing.

“My car, what happened to my car?”

We walked up to the Grand Am, which I had affectionately named “Marcello” years earlier. It was completely totaled. The bumper was smashed all the way into the back tires. The back end was gone; well, it was there, but it was just taking up a lot less space. The front end was crunched. Only one door could be opened. I was thankful that I was nowhere near the car when it happened. 

I believe cars represent the movement in our life. Years after my divorce, I believe I needed a lesson in moving forward to the next level. I believe that fate has a way of feng shui’ing important things out of your life for a reason.

Here it was – another September 11th – and the “coincidence” was not lost on me. If the Prism was my “marriage car,” then the Grand Am was definitely my “divorce car.” And it was time for me to be “over” my divorce years. I thought I was. The universe didn’t. Note to self: the Universe always wins. 


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