I don’t think the universe is intelligent, but I am absolutely convinced it is highly informative. However, just because it lacks focus and specific intent doesn’t give you permission to ignore it. Take, for example, the person sitting next to you on a plane.

She’s red-haired, probably around your age. She wears a skirt that is too long and too full by current fashion standards and maroon hat that walks a wobbly line between fedora and sombrero. The hat is positioned too high on her head, making her look more than a little bit nuts. You are sitting in your seat with a book in your lap, minding your own business, because minding your own business is what you do when you are sitting alone on a plane, feeling self-conscious.

Not only does this woman not share said self-consciousness, she refuses to allow you yours. Her name is Caroline. She talks about her job, teaching English in Belfast. She tells you about her elderly mother, who is seated in first class on the same plane. She recounts the headaches of traveling with an ailing parent, but in her voice you hear only love. Like you, she has a penchant for taking off to places she’s never been on Christmas Day. She asks with genuine interest about your job, your family. She buys wine and offers you half the bottle, but you decline because you know you have to drive a rental car with your kids in it through a unfamiliar city when the plane lands. It’s a short flight, but by the time it ends, you are friends.

Even as you reject the concept of a master plan, you find yourself wholeheartedly accepting the chaotic stew of life, teeming with opportunities for meaningful intersection. So, you have long known that self-consciousness holds you back, but the universe doesn’t nudge you in the ribs and say okay, here, this is the valuable lesson you need to learn. Instead, a woman sits next to you on a plane. She’s wearing a maroon hat and isn’t afraid to tell you who she is and where she’s going. This time, you happen to be paying attention.