There are times when I wish I had a crystal ball that told me, day-to-day, exactly what is coming. You know, a little bit of notice. Not a five-year plan or even all the details. Just something like: Don’t bother transferring water all evening, it’s going to rain tonight.

We ran out of water yesterday.

We knew it was coming. The first sign that the water is getting low is that it starts getting bubbly, almost effervescent; it is something to do with water being sucked out of the tank rather than flowing out. I don’t really understand the physics of it. I just recognise it as a warning that we are getting low. Then the water starts getting gulps of air in the line as the pump loses pressure and tries to suck water uphill, hissing and spitting. Then, quicker than expected, the water stopped altogether.

We have a backup tank, thank goodness, put in after the first time we ran out of water, but it takes time to transfer water across to the main tank as we can’t just switch over to start using the backup water instead.

It made me think about the last time we ran out of water; it’s happened three times since we moved here. We’d had all the warning signs, became even more careful with the water, and reduced our showers down to two minutes, nowhere near long enough on hair washing day. The day came when it ran out. We spent the afternoon transferring water from our brand new backup tank and finally got the water back on in the house.

Then guess what happened.

That night it rained. Not light rain; it poured with rain all night long and over the next few days, and all the tanks filled back up to the top.

A miracle. An absolutely wonderful miracle.

Well, back to yesterday, because we were caught a bit off guard. Our attention was focused elsewhere, not observing the subtleties, and we ran out of water late in the afternoon. We began transferring water from our backup tank and pumped water well into the evening. It left us without water in the house overnight, which was no great drama.

Just before bed, I was in the kitchen. I heard a frog croak and thought, I bet it’s going to rain tomorrow.

When I woke this morning, it was sprinkling with the finest mist of rain, enough that I could hear it gurgling down the gutters. And now, as I write this, we have steady rain which, if it continues, will fill all the tanks back up in no time.

Another miracle.

I found myself wondering this morning if there were signs of rain I had missed. Obviously, there’s the frog, but it only croaked once and I have not heard any frogs croak since.

I could have checked the forecast but I reckon they only get it right half the time. Maybe if I’d noticed more, like changes in the air or the humidity, watched the ants, or noticed any number of tiny shifts happening around me that I’m simply not attuned to.

Even if I had noticed them, would it have changed anything? Would I have let the water run out and in blind faith waited for the coming rain to fill the water tank?

No way.

Not that I don’t believe the rain will come, but all the awareness in the world doesn’t create certainty.

Maybe that’s what I’ve been trying to understand. We often get signs and then hope they mean something conclusive. That sign "X" means "Y". But I don’t think it is that straightforward.

I recognise that I would feel much safer if I knew that signs provided definitive answers, anything that removes uncertainty from the equation.

Partly this is because, without outside confirmation, our decisions are simply our decisions, with the responsibility staying firmly with us even though we can’t possibly predict outcomes beyond our control.

It's tempting to seek reassurance from something outside ourselves: a sign, a tarot card, a repeating number, or even another person's opinion.

There is nothing inherently wrong with seeking another perspective. The difficulty comes when we expect that perspective to eliminate uncertainty.

There was a time when I would research every repeating number I encountered. If I saw 11:11, I wanted to know exactly what it meant. The same went for 222, 333, and all the other magical numbers.

I wanted to know what the specific meaning was when I saw a particular number, the definitive answer. Something I could recognise and understand. Perhaps even something that would tell me what to do next.

I was looking for meaning, but perhaps I was also looking for certainty.

We are all looking for certainty at times. We want to know that we're making the right decision. That a relationship will work. That the right opportunity will come. That we're on the right path. That if we take the leap, everything will turn out the way we hope.

Certainty feels safe because, if we knew what was going to happen, we could plan for it, aka control it. We could avoid the wrong turn, protect ourselves from disappointment, and put our energy only into the things guaranteed to work.

Except life doesn't seem to offer us that opportunity very often. Instead, I think the value of a sign is simply that it catches our attention.

We stop whatever we're doing, even if only momentarily. We become aware of something we might otherwise have overlooked.

And in that moment, we have an opportunity. We can look around. Notice what we're thinking, what we're feeling, and what's happening in our lives. Notice something we've been avoiding, or something that deserves more attention.

Signs are not instructions as much as they are information.

As I listen to the rain, it's easy to say we should have waited. We could have saved ourselves an entire evening of pumping water. That's the thing with hindsight. It all seems so obvious once you know how it all works out.

Yesterday afternoon, we didn't know it was going to rain. We knew the tank was empty, we had water available elsewhere, and we had a decision to make.

Later that evening, I heard a frog. Perhaps it knew something I didn't. Perhaps I should pay more attention to frogs.

But would I make a different decision next time? Probably not. Because trusting the signs doesn't mean handing over responsibility for my decisions. It means remaining open to the information available to me, even when I don't fully understand it.

I can pay attention to the frog and still transfer the water. I can trust my intuition and still take practical action. And I can make a decision without needing to know exactly how everything will turn out.

Perhaps wisdom isn't about knowing what's coming. It's about making the best decision we can with the information we have, while remaining open to what happens next.

• Are you looking for a sign to give you an answer, or to help you make a decision?

• Have you ever judged a past decision by how things turned out, rather than by what you knew at the time?

Looking for a little extra clarity? Or know someone who could benefit from some clarity, or who you’d like to gift a unique experience to? When life feels uncertain and you are trying to make sense of your own path, a 1:1 reading can offer a grounded space to talk things through. I offer intuitive phone and online readings to help you untangle what you're carrying. You can click here to book a session with me or simply reply to this email to find out more.

May this day bring you peace. May you feel the warmth of the sun on your face.

Until next time,

Leeanne

P.S. I’d love to hear from you. Have you ever followed a sign, or chosen to ignore one? What happened? Simply hit reply and tell me.

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