Allow it to happen
This morning I decided I had prayed and waited for a sign long enough, I dialed the number for Aer Lingus to discuss my upcoming flight. I was nervous and unsure
about what to do, I had so many thoughts running through my head. Will my flight be canceled? Should I even go to England during a pandemic? If I don't go now
I might not be able to afford to go later with the airline prices going up. But if Dave is here for school in the fall this may be my last chance.
I was shaking my feet and fiddling with my pen, shifting in my seat and letting my nerves get the best of me. After being on hold for 10 minutes I knew I needed to do
something more than stew in my anxiousness. I got up and grabbed my green aventurine (for good fortune), a citrine (to protect my pocketbook), and my unakite mala
(to balance my stress and bring a grounding tranquility). On each bead of my mala, I prayed "Divine Goddess, thank you for all of my blessings. Please allow me to be
open and aware of your will. I am yours."
Before long I could feel the stress melting away, I knew in my heart that once the customer service agent got on the call my
path would align with my Higher Power's plan for me. I let go and allowed the spirit to flow through me and my faith to guide me. I'm pleased with the outcome, I'm still
headed to England but switched to a flight on another day. I feel at peace knowing this is my path.
Love and peace
Charity
It might seem like a small thing — reaching for stones on a shelf when the hold music stretches past ten minutes. But those three pieces were not chosen randomly. Each one carried a specific intention, and in that moment of anxiety, having something tangible to hold gave my scattered energy somewhere to land.
Green aventurine has long been associated with opportunity and the kind of luck that opens doors rather than simply falling into your lap. It is sometimes called the stone of opportunity, not because it removes effort, but because it is thought to calm the internal static that stops us from recognising a good path when we see one. In that phone call, I needed to hear clearly. I needed my instincts to be louder than my fear.
Citrine carries warm, solar energy. It is often worked with in matters involving finances, practical decision-making, and maintaining a positive outlook when circumstances feel pressured. With airline prices shifting daily and no certainty about the future, holding citrine was a way of anchoring myself to the practical while keeping my spirit light enough to receive guidance.
Unakite is a grounding stone with a gentleness to it that other earthing crystals do not always share. Its pink and green composition reflects a balance between the emotional heart and the steady physical body. Working with unakite through a mala — bead by bead — allowed me to bring my nervous system down slowly, repetition acting as a kind of anchor in the same way breathwork does. The mala itself matters: there is something deeply settling about the physical act of moving through 108 beads, each one a small return to presence.
Faith is not a passive thing. It is often misunderstood as the absence of action — as waiting with your hands folded. But what I have come to understand, through many moments like this one, is that true faith requires an active surrender. You bring your full effort, your full attention, and your full prayer to the moment — and then you release the outcome.
That releasing is the hard part. It means accepting that the right answer might not be the one you arrived at before picking up the phone. It means staying open even when you have already decided. In this instance, I had half-convinced myself I would keep the original flight out of stubbornness about the cost and the time already spent planning. But when I let go of that attachment and truly listened — to the agent, to my own body, to the quiet that had settled in once I finished the mala — the answer was obvious. Switch the flight. Trust the timing.
The outcome was not dramatic. No lightning bolt, no vision. Just a small, clear sense of rightness. And that is, I think, what most moments of faith actually feel like. Not a miracle in the cinematic sense, but a quiet alignment between your choices and something larger than your immediate worry.
If you find yourself in a similar space — waiting on hold, waiting on news, waiting on a decision that feels too big — here is what I have found to help.
First, name the fear specifically. Not "I am anxious" but "I am afraid the flight will be cancelled and I will lose money and miss my chance." When you can name the exact shape of the fear, it becomes something you can actually address rather than a fog you are trying to hold back.
Second, reach for something physical. A crystal, a mala, a worry stone, a cup of tea — anything that asks your hands to participate and pulls attention out of the spinning mind. The body is often calmer than we think; it is the mind that amplifies.
Third, offer the outcome. This does not require any particular religious framework. It can be as simple as saying, silently or aloud: "I have done what I can. I am open to what comes." That single act of release can shift the quality of the whole experience.
The crystals I used that morning — green aventurine, citrine, unakite — are not magic in the sense that they override reality. They are tools for attention. They remind me, through texture and colour and the intention I set when I placed them in my hand, that I am not navigating this alone. And that reminder is its own kind of power.