October 13, 2026
I’ve started to believe in the quiet ways the universe talks to us.
It began two winters ago, on my first solo trip abroad. Six countries in South America, three months, just me. At a yoga retreat, a cat named Eleven came into my cabin every night to visit me. At the time it just felt sweet, a little companion when I was far from home. Looking back, I think it was the first nod.
Since then, 7-11 keeps finding me. I look at the clock, morning or evening, and it’s 7:11. Again and again, day after day.
Now I’m on another solo journey, a month through Vermont. which I desperately needed after so many months of hard work and no rest. And the signs started right away. One of my first Airbnbs had 711 in the address. The next day, the car in front of me had 711 on its license plate. The day after that, in a bookstore, I overheard a girl ask her friend when her birthday was and she replied, “July 11th.” And tonight I arrived at a little glass tiny home, and the Wi-Fi password ends in 711.
I know how it sounds, and it’s hard to explain to anyone else, but maybe it was never meant to be explained. To me, these moments are small, steady reminders that I’m on the right path, that I’m protected and looked after, and that I can trust myself.
I’m learning to listen to my intuition the way I’d listen to a good friend. And every time 7:11 finds me, I stop. Chills run through me, my eyes fill with tears, and I breathe it in. A quiet thank you to whatever is watching over me.
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