There are times in life where extraordinary things happen in an ordinary way and all the pieces of your life fall apart and then rearrange themselves like a cosmic puzzle piecing itself into place. The past week has been one of those times. I don’t have answers but I’m trusting the path my heart is being pulled, the kismet tug I’ve lived my entire life by.

It’s been 18 months since that pull brought me to Brighton, but it feels like a lifetime has passed here, living through the most unfamiliar oscillation of our current existence. These 18 months have had me see the world through new eyes. And fall in love with it in an entirely new way.

On one of the first sunny days in late June, sitting on the beach with a group of girlfriends, I turned to them and say “I have some news… I’m leaving Brighton at the end of September.” Sad faces and well-wishings came with the question “Where are you going?” “I don’t know yet… I have friends in France and Greece and Spain and Portugal I want to visit. I think if I go see them the answer will come. Somewhere sunnier and warmer”. Mallorca, an island I’ve never been to, kept tugging at my sleeve.

13 sunny days in the past 3 months is the disappointment that some people call ‘Summer’ has etched my decision into my heart even deeper. I keep buying summer dresses on Depop under the pretense that it would encourage summer to finally start, but that did not work. I wasn’t thriving here anymore. At the start of the year, I had entered some kind of lackluster stagnation, a sensation I refuse to be a willing participant in. I don’t know how people live in a tiny box enclosed by the same four walls year in and year out. I am not those people.

My loose plan was to put my 3 bags that contain my life possessions in storage, leave Danger-baby with a friend, and travel for a month or three, while I let the cosmos move me to my next steps. Then, like dominoes falling, all my potential cat-carers pulled out, the place I might have stored my things was no longer available and I was left with a question in my mind. “If not this, then what?”

In my distant past, the not-knowing would have made me feel tense and uneasy. But the years I’ve dedicated to retraining my central nervous system to soften, relax and trust when the emptiness of the unknown arrives, have paid off. Ultimately there’s an opportunity for redirection and undiscovered answers here. When things aren’t flowing, I pull back and let go of any plans and ideas. This is the space where the extraordinary can happen.

Returning home from the 3rd festival in a month, satisfied and tired, on the 2nd day of my moon, I let my mind wander back to the topic haunting me, What are my next steps? My inner voice replies, You need a car. I can feel some resistance in my body. Ugh… a car. I don’t love driving and I’m slightly traumatized from the last time I bought a car, 8 years ago, that blew up after 3 weeks. This time is different, she says. That was the past. Let go of the past.

This feeling in my body, I know it well, alive with inspiration. It’s one of those times where I am transported to a realm where I am not in control and everything happens to me, for me. I love those times. It’s one of the reasons I love to travel. I get to access it more often in the spaces between. I type “used cars” into google and find a place with the best reviews. There’s a cute car there that looks brand new and only has 10,000 miles. I feel drawn to it immediately. I go to Facebook marketplace to compare prices and models from the same year.

I return to the original listing… there’s something about it, I don’t know, but I trust the feeling and leave an inquiry about it. The car dealer calls me back and answers my questions and I tell him I’m going to sit with it and then come see it if it feels right. I text my most practical friends to find out about buying cars in Europe vs. the UK in terms of quality, price, and ease of driving left and versus right-hand drive. In unison, they tell me that the UK is the best place to buy.

That night, sitting on the floor having a picnic with a group of girlfriends, I ask them “Does anyone here know anything about cars?” Most of them shake their heads, two of them nod and give me their best tips. “I am thinking about buying a car…” I continue. “What do I need to know?” The circle of women looks at me wide-eyed. “Where did this come from?” “I leave you alone for 24 hours and then this happens?!” “What? Why?”. We laugh and I tell them about the inner guidance I’ve received and show them the car I am thinking about. They oooh and aaah in approval. I’m going to go look at it tomorrow, I’ve decided.

It all happens really quickly. The car salesman whom I spoke to on the phone guides me to the car and as we walk I vibe him out. His energy is pure and clear. I can trust him. This is the only way I know how to make decisions. I feel everything and I’ve learned to trust my intuitive feelings unreservedly. He leaves me with the car to check it out while he moves some cars around the car center. The car feels solid, gentle, safe. A blue Fiat Punto owned by a grandma for 10 years who drove it to the high street once per week. We take it for a test drive while I ask him all the questions I pulled off a google search titled questions girls should ask when buying a car. It passes all the tests and I take it to a mechanic for a final check.

I buy the car. A new plan unfolds. It feels fluid, graceful, fun, easy. This is how I know I’m on the right path. Punto-baby, Honey Bear, our things and I are going on a European road trip across France and Spain to move to Mallorca. There are moments in life that I know will be extraordinary before they happen and this is one of those moments. I breathe in deeply as it comes.