I was sitting there at my desk at work, typing away at my computer, when suddenly, I hear the sound of pitter-patter and rolling. I look over to my left wrist, and my mala had broke and the beads were making a break for it.
I hadn’t snagged it on anything. The knot by the lotus had inexplicably unravelled, and now beads were rolling away from me, bouncing off my desk, and hiding behind boxes and cabinets.
I was flood with emotion. First, I felt sad. Then, I felt free. Then, I felt a mixture of all that with happiness. My trusty meditation tool embodies the lesson of impermanence.
I looked over at Teegan (who sits a few feet away), and announced, “My mala broke!” She looked concerned, “Oh NO!” Then she gauged the look on my face for the emotions that I may be feeling and asks, “Wait, are you even sad?” “I suppose? No. I guess I am not.”
A month before this event, I had meditated and communicated my wish to bring another into this world but that this should only happen if it were for the right reasons. I gave my reasons and braced myself.
Weeks after, I meditated and asked for signs: signs that my life will soon transition into another period and that I’d be bringing another into this world. My mala breaking was just one of the many signs the universe had given me.
Later on, I took the more scientific approach and bought a home pregnancy test. It confirmed what I already knew, spiritually-speaking.
My broken mala: a sign of my transition.