I said to myself this afternoon, I need a sign. I don’t want any cutesy, vague signs that’ll leave me still in doubt. I need to know this time I’m doing right. I need a clear indication, go or no go.

The universe was kind to me.

I mean the universe is already good-humored overall. The day after I wrote about Leo Kottke, including his 6- and 12- string guitar album, out came the only live armadillo I’ve seen all year. And not in the distance—it came trotting in from an adjacent property as I was practicing Shintaido, ran right toward me, stopped five feet away, then headed under the house. Of course the old Leo Kottke recording is known as the armadillo album because of the picture on the cover.

Then there’s the night I met a new relative, a week before I was heading for Switzerland. The only reason I was going to Switzerland was that I had a friend living there who wanted me to visit. I knew almost nothing about the country. I had no plans except for one thing I’d heard of that drew me: the monks of Einsiedeln who every afternoon for many centuries have sung their Gregorian chants. I knew I would make a side trip there.

Turns out the relative’s wife is from Switzerland. Also, he was writing a collection of autobiographical short stories and the cover photo would be a little girl under the oak tree that was the center of his childhood world. I didn’t tell him, I don’t know why, but in the folder I’d brought with me to the restaurant, right there and then, I had a bit of branch from the very oak tree he was talking about. I’d picked it up from the ground after a rain storm when I was visiting Lafayette one year. And he didn’t tell me then, but he and his wife had married in Einsiedeln in the late 1940s, in the church where the monks do their chant.

It’s been a rough week for me and everyone around me. There are strong pros and cons in both directions, my desire ambivalent because what good is an outing if you’re likely to feel guilty the whole time.

Today, there were no animals or oak trees pointing the way. Instead, an unexpected phone call. I didn’t ask, but my aunt said very distinctly, go.