The Token That Finds You

I didn’t assign the messages.

After painting the bookmarks—each with a flower and a phrase—I shuffled them and wrote notes on the backs, without knowing who would receive which one.

Then I mailed each one to people I meet weekly on a Zoom call. A rotating circle of strangers-turned-kindreds who gather, week after week, without agenda. Just to converse. Just to connect.

And somehow, the tokens landed exactly where they were meant to.

The responses I’ve been receiving this week made it clear: what arrived felt oddly specific, like it had been chosen for them. A timely encouragement. A needed nudge. A quiet affirmation that didn’t have to be shouted to be heard.

I keep thinking about how often we try to control the impact of what we create. How we want to know it mattered.

But sometimes, the most resonant moments are the ones we don’t orchestrate.

It seems the universe has a way of ensuring messages find exactly who needs them most. These weren’t grand gestures. Just small offerings—untracked, uncalculated.

And still, they made people feel remembered. Serendipity isn’t random — it’s a confluence of intention, intuition and intrepid unforced energy.