The Final Countdown
When the message comes loud and clear
This morning began in water.
I arrived early at the pool, hoping to catch a moment to myself before the crowd made it impossible. The air was already thick, humming with the heaviness of summer. I slipped into the water and floated for a long time, letting the pool hold me. Eyes closed, arms loose, I drifted in and out of something like meditation. Birds circled above, calling to each other as they crossed the sky. Everything felt suspended. Weightless, slow, whole.
I didn’t want to break the stillness, so when I got out, I wrapped myself in a towel and stayed nearby. I’d brought one of my old journals with me, hoping to revisit it. This one was from when I was seventeen. I wasn’t looking for anything specific. Just… listening.
The entries were raw and made me feel nostalgic. I could see how much I wanted things then: love, clarity, a path. I read with attention, as if the younger me were still somewhere close. Then I picked up my pen and began writing again. Not to offer advice or correction, but to meet her. To say: I’m still here. I remember.
There was something grounding about that exchange across time. Something that made me feel both younger and older all at once. I lingered there for a while, watching the light move across the water. I didn’t know it yet, but the day had already started preparing me for something.
Eventually, I checked the time. I needed to get going for my monthly Reiki session, something I always look forward to. I had planned this Saturday around self-care, and it felt good to gather my things and head into the next part of the day without rushing.
The session was different this time.
Usually, Reiki brings me into deep stillness, but today, my body felt restless. Like I needed to stretch. Move. Almost like I was trying to grow out of my own skin. I wasn’t sure what was happening, only that I couldn’t settle. When I told my Reiki master, she smiled and said, “You’re outgrowing your space. You’re getting ready for something new.”
I kept thinking about that as I left, and called a Lyft to go home. A woman named Charlotte picked me up. The radio was already on, one song fading as I climbed into the back seat. I reached for the seatbelt, and just as I clicked it into place, the next song started. There were trumpets I knew well.
It’s the final countdown.
I froze for a moment. Then the goosebumps came.
It didn’t feel random. I didn’t need to analyze it. I just knew. The timing, the tone, the exact second the lyrics came in… it felt like Spirit reaching through the speakers with something to say.
And what it said was simple:
This is the moment before the moment.
Not an ending, not a warning.
Just a threshold. A shift.
The countdown to something that’s been waiting in the wings.
I don’t know exactly what it is yet.
But I feel it coming.
And I think I’m finally ready.
✦ Have you ever received a message through music? I’d love to hear it.
