Ten years ago today, on 7/7/07, I was busily prepping for my Independence Day party. We’d already had fireworks and hot dogs to celebrate America’s independence; this time, friends and family would gather at our house to celebrate my independence. See, days earlier, I had shut the door on my communications career and jumped into my new life as a freelancer and entrepreneur. I’d been suffering from what I call restless soul syndrome for a while — that odd and sometimes unsettling sense that the Powers That Be are calling you forward, asking you to show up in new ways. I had no idea what my next chapter would look like, but I had enough freelance clients lined up to keep me financially afloat while I figured it out.

So, I threw a party to celebrate! And having the party on that day — 7/7/07 — wasn’t by accident. I have long paid attention to angel numbers (messages sent from beyond through special number sequences), and according to Doreen Virtue’s Angel Numbers 101, seeing 777 signals the following message from the angels: “You are definitely on the right path in every area of your life. Stay balanced and spiritually aware so that you can continue moving forward on this illuminated path.” I wanted to usher in all the magic I could for this leg of my journey, so it seemed like the perfect date to kick things off.

Looking back, it feels like a lifetime has been packed into these past 10 years. I had thought my path might lead me to create in new ways, but I never imagined that I’d make my living receiving guidance and providing insights to women stepping into the bigger work calling them. It is so fulfilling, so enchanting, and such a blessing.

And yet, I have known for the past few months that something else was coming. Restless soul syndrome strikes again.

It’s not that I have felt discontented; I looooove the work I do one-on-one with my clients. But I have felt unsettled, oddly detached from other parts of my work. When people ask me what classes I’ll teach next year, I have no answer. When people ask me why my greeting card shop isn’t open again, I have no answer. When people ask if or when I’m going to write another book, I have no answer. And though I’ve had visions appear during meditations of me inside a glorious-looking future, when I ask myself how I get there, I have no answer. This is a bit of a problem, friends, because I like having answers. I’m used to having answers. I’m a big fan of knowing what to expect, what comes next, what and who I can rely on. That’s human nature, I guess.

Here’s what I know for sure, what I’ve learned to count on: when I have no answers and I feel insatiably restless, it means something big is coming. Something I can’t control, foresee, or plan ahead for. The only tool I have in times like these is trust. Big, fat, do-what-you-want-with-me trust. So, instead of trying to strong-arm God for an answer lately, I’ve continually whispered this request: “Please help me see how to expand my work and bless others.”

I set aside some days on my calendar this week with no calls or appointments, trusting that if I got still enough, the answers would come. Each day, I’ve sat down with pen and paper, scribbling nonsense, forcing creativity, naming classes I don’t want to teach. I’ve meditated. I’ve talked to my spirit guides. I’ve slept well. I’ve waited. But no answers came. I went to bed on Wednesday feeling confused, so I started counting the ways I’ve witnessed God working in my life and others’ with perfect, divine timing. I drifted off to sleep feeling at peace.

The next morning, I woke up with a start — and the answer to a question I don’t remember asking: I need to paint with the angels. I didn’t even know what that meant, but the words kept swirling around in my head as I brushed my teeth. I went to find paper and paints (tucked away years ago) before even having breakfast. I sat down, started painting an ocean and it felt good. Then a pretty purple sky. Then angel wings in a hurricane. Wait, what? Angel wings in a hurricane? Where did that come from!? I had goosebumps.

I could feel Spirit nudging me to get up and find old canvases, also tucked away from years ago when I experimented with mixed media art. As soon as I sat back down with a canvas in front of me, a swarm of angels rushed into the room. I was surrounded by the brightest light, and it felt like they practically took over my body. They would whisper which color to use, point out a tool to pick up, show me exactly where to place my brush and how long to hold it there. Time disappeared. I could hear myself laughing out loud — caught up in glee — as we painted. It was a total trust fall, and what was appearing before me left me stunned.

I ran out of canvases, and I needed more colors. So I took a break in the afternoon to run to the art store for supplies. I took my time and practically floated up and down the aisles, picking out tools and brushes I knew nothing about but had no doubt the angels would teach me how to use. As I pulled out of the parking lot, looking in my rear view mirror, I gasped. The license plate on the car parked behind me leaped out at me: 777.

I don’t even remember driving home. I couldn’t wait to start again, to paint again, to see what we’d create next. I was so electrified, I hated going to bed last night, and couldn’t wait to wake up again this morning. This collaboration is nothing I ever could have planned for or expected, which is how I know it’s meant to be. It doesn’t even matter what I wind up doing with the artwork at this point; I will just to stay open, stand in awe and hope sharing my experience reminds you, in some way, to do the same.