I'm on the edge of something...

I knew something was trying to get my attention the last full day in Colorado. Before I had left, I implored my friend Paco, who has passed nearly 2 years now, to let me see him one last time in badger form. And on that last day there, I did see a badger. I saw three, and one did not behave typically. Typical would have had them in the field and fleeing human contact. But this one was leading the others down the graveled road toward our approaching car. One dove into the culvert, and one ran. But this one, he turned and stared at me full on, snarling and hissing and being a glorious bastard. And in this darkest night of doubt and abandoned beliefs, I had an answer.

There is something more. 

And it knows me.

My chest is tight right now, with anticipation. Something wants my attention. And it's getting demanding. Something is trying to tell me to not stop believing. 

Still, I have the opposite telling me just as loudly, that as humans, we have a disease. It's that we need to create meaning where there might be none.  (Ref 1, 2, 3)

So I go forward with caution. I am looking carefully at these coincidences and holding back what wants to burst forth. Because I don't want to live without this feeling of anticipation that there is more. I don't want proof that this story of me, of us, could be over some day and that nothing really did matter.