Kevin makes a case for the occurrence of signs in his life

I walked to the White Hen this morning, Nick Drake and his sweet voice sliding out of my ear buds. My mission was to get some coffee and when that task was accomplished---with military precision, I might add---I left the store, looking forward to more Nick Drake for the walk home. I managed to hear a little of the gorgeous "Northern Sky" before the music stopped and everything froze.I couldn't shut the unit off or get it to perform any other function, no matter what I did. I love my mp3 player and use it often. In its library are many albums I don't own in any other format. I had over thirty cd's stolen from me over the summer all of those are on my mp3 player. I also acquired many other albums from my friend's cd's. The last line I heard before things went awry was "Brighten my Northern Sky". What could that mean? Was it a message telling me things are going to get brighter? If so, what a terrible method of getting the point across to me, given the fact that the my day grew substantially dimmer as a result. I would have preferred the message conveyed to me with a thumbs up image in the clouds or by a stranger passing me on the street who stops in front of me and says "You will prevail, my friend. It's always darkest before the dawn".

Maybe the message, if there was one, was of the ominous sort. The fact that my mp3 player went into a coma for no apparent reason during a time when I'm grasping for any sort comfort I can find to help take the edge off, could well indicate, as if I needed a reminder, that I'm waist deep in the shit house and not coming out any time soon. I'm not sure that would qualify as a sign, necessarily, since it's not so much a preview of things to come, but only a reflection of my current state, but what do I know. Is the Universe kicking me while I'm down? If it is, what an asshole!

I'm a believer in the existence of signs. I think we are guided, gently, by an unseen hand, from time to time. That unseen hand could be called God, the Self, the Universe, The Void---take your pick. Whatever it is, I don't believe it can be expressed by any available means. The problem for me is determining what qualifies as a sign and what doesn't. Now, unless I'm presented with instances like the stranger I described above---an overt sign---I'll never be sure if what occurred had a special significance for me, because sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. And what do you call someone who is adept at interpreting even the most subtle of signs? Schizophrenic. If you try hard and often enough to see messages in your environment, you will soon find yourself in the hedge-maze of schizophrenia , unable to back your way out. So, it's crucial, while on this endeavor, to keep yourself in check. It took me months to realize that not only was my tinfoil hat a symptom of schizophrenia, it was also a far from original one. I thought I was more creative than that, buy my thinking was erroneous, it seems.

Looking back on the events of my life, I recognize, from my perch high above them, the instances of signs. I see situations where, just when I needed them most, friends or family would contact me. Or, I'd come into some money at just the right time. When one door closed, another would open. The imprints of signs are there to see if looked upon with a keen eye. The map is not the territory, but it does give you an idea of what's around the bend. I'm sure you've heard the story of the car approaching from the opposite direction and as it passes you, the driver yells out, "pig!!". And the whole time you're stewing over the unwarranted insult, there is a pig in the road just around the bend.

There is the possibility that the belief in signs is just wishful thinking. It could be argued that given my current plight, when I feel my control of events is slipping ever faster, I've convinced myself, while side-stepping reason, that something beyond me is holding my hand through it all. I don't think that is so, but I won't discount it, either; I'm well enough aware of the constructs of the mind, of the illusions it can create to maintain order and stability.

Sign or no, my mp3 player has flat-lined and it's dubious whether I will be able to revive it. Damn, I really love that thing. Parting with it will be sorrowful.