A couple of weeks ago I was reminded once again that I am probably spending too much time on social media. I get sucked in just like everyone else, even though I take great care to treat my attention like the valuable commodity it is. I try to be judicious. I stick to creators I appreciate for their intelligent coverage of civics and resistance, or their knowledge about all manner of flora and fauna, their skills with food and art (or both!), their incredible humor, thoughtfulness, hopeful takes, spiritual articulations, and above all, kindness. Above all, and just like IRL, I respond well to anybody who embodies a real passion to contribute, to add something back to life, whether that’s by doing good work, causing good trouble, or articulating compassion and decency.

After a couple of extremely online days though, stuff leaks through. The screaming, the emergencies, the anger and the fear. The amplified voices of those who antagonize, and of those who believe all is lost. I know that it’s designed to manipulate and paralyze us. But the volume still affects me. We live in the Information Age where life is by default an ALL CAP INFORMATION SITUATION. It’s impossible to stand in front of that firehose of ubiquity first thing in the morning until last thing at night.

So many ringing alarm bells. Such loud plays for our concern. It leaves us feeling like nothing we do matters, and that my friends, I cannot abide. That’s a spirit-crusher right there.

Instead, let me share with you a quick anecdote about how intuition reminded me of its universality, showing me that it will always respond to us, even to the most seemingly trivial of needs. These constant generosities are often quiet gestures regarding the minutiae of life in a time of great distress. They remind us that we are still in the flow of life. They keep us going when the big picture feels awful, sustain us with a shot of hope when we flag, lift our gazes upward, and expand our capacity.

Here’s what happened. Teddy, our 11lb Morkie Poo, is an angelic fluff cookie made of light and charisma. He is the smallest dog I have ever owned, and a tremendous good boy, except when he doesn’t want to be. His occasional naughtiness is entirely forgivable when you consider the love and sweetness he brings into our lives.

On his behalf, I ask you this: who among us can’t relate to the deep spiritual craving that would lead even the most darling wee beastie to chew up a variety of earbuds that have been left on my nightstand right next to the bed? Truly they are up for grabs from his perspective. If they were really important someone would have put them out of reach, right? Human error not being a concept familiar to other species, it’s rather dramatic of me to point out that in addition to the multiple pairs of wireless ear buds, foam ear plugs, and several knock-off wired EarPods, he also has destroyed the very expensive sleep ear buds I received as a birthday present, after only a dozen uses.

When I inventory it this way, it seems way less his fault and more about me being in a fog in the morning. Still, I discovered I was down to exactly no remaining ear buds right before bed during a week in which Teddy had been extremely prolific, relieving me of the very last of the things I shove into my ears at night to help me sleep. I sighed deeply, borrowed a pair from Bill, and made a mental note to restock over the weekend.

Upon awakening the next morning, I got a zap. I remembered that it was 50% Off Day at one of my favorite thrift stores in the area. It happens on the last Friday of every month and it is an absolute blast to shop there on any day, but on 50% Off Day it’s extra bustling and fun. Outta The Box supports a local school and its vibe is mostly retro, a charity shop for all ages. The shop is small and selective and has lots of estate sale items. China, books, kitchen ware from the 70’s and 80’s, lots of Talbots. For example, I got the 70’s bright yellow plastic pitcher I use for watering plants there, as well as a bunch of silver cutlery and a solid marble rolling pin. Super deluxe.

There’s a dedicated section for yarn and fabric. Big band music is often playing on Pandora, and the most delicious eavesdropping opportunities in Southern Maine are there when the regulars are catching up.

I made a plan to stop by.

In the shop I wandered around for quite a while without finding anything interesting. Unusual. So I made a second loop and found a jean jacket I liked, but it didn’t feel like the reason I’d been sent down there. Then, upon re-inspection of the costume jewelry I spied a small mesh cosmetic pouch with no price tag. Inside were 2 sets of brand new wired EarPods with the correct dongles, and a string of fairy lights, all tangled together.

At the register, I explained where I’d found them and that there was no price. A glamorous woman who I want to be when I grow up conferred with another sophisticated woman I want to be when I grow up and they offered me the whole kit for $10. Which would make it $5, she explained, because it was 50% Off Day.

Which made each pair of EarPods $2.50 each.

Can I tell you how my heart raced with joy?

This little miracle means everything. The small ones always do. It reminded me that the algorithm cannot regulate the magic in the Universe that flows through the interconnected web of energy we are all a part of. It has no dominion over whimsy, it cannot regulated abundance. Our intuition reminds us that the Universe, or whatever we call the force that is the sum total of all goodness in the world, is listening. It hears the big stuff, the prayers we send out that all of our greatest needs be met during this perilous time, and it responds by guiding us to be part of the highest good for the greatest number. Some days we received the strength to labor on, for a world we want to leave to our children. Some days we get a steal on some overlooked EarPods. It all matters.

At the very least, intuition in the real world means owning a replacement warranty on hope that never expires.

Holding you in my heart always,

Susan