There are 12 parking garages in the vicinity of this restaurant. What did you see in Nashville? Parking lots, many. When the girl at the counter gave me number 24 I nodded, I tend to do this now when the numbers or names or signs align. It took a while, this “coming out of the spiritual closet.” For a long time I was always too skeptical, too cynical, too dark and too obsessed with that darkness to get on board with “those people.” The ones who follow signs and synchronicity like law. The ones who say these kinds of things out loud. I always took the signs, sure, but I never made a full commitment to them. It felt like a game, blind faith vs. I-can-almost-see-something. At some point, I started saying show me, and these words became my law. On this trip I am constantly seeing results of the inner work I’ve been doing, reflected back to me in the world. This is a big deal. I sat here and wrote about it. I left the restaurant jacked on coffee and life, feeling like I got this thing, life can just be easy now. And then I wandered the streets of downtown for almost two hours looking for my car because I forgot where I parked it and the universe will always keep us in check. Which level did you park on? Not sure. Was the lot underground? Part of it was, I think. What kind of car is it? Red. How do you know when you see a sign? It will be right there, as if you put it there yourself. (at Frothy Monkey)