The Day the Universe Spoke Back: How 11:11 and Two Dragonflies Revealed a Hidden Message
- vasallophoto
- 5 hours ago
- 4 min read
I’ve always believed that life has a way of redirecting us, especially when we’re trying too hard to control the plan. But I didn’t realize how literal that could be until a simple Saturday in Bali unfolded into something far more meaningful.
My husband and I were on our way to pick up our daughter from a sleepover when we decided to grab lunch nearby. He had been wanting to try a specific restaurant, and although I had my own opinions (and tendencies to steer things), we headed there. But when we arrived, a handwritten sign hung on the door explaining they were closed in observance of Kuningan, one of Bali’s most sacred holidays.
For context, Kuningan marks the final day of a ten-day spiritual period called Galungan. Balinese Hindus believe that during Galungan, ancestors descend from the heavens to visit the living. Kuningan is the day those visiting spirits return back to the divine realm, leaving blessings, guidance, and protection behind.
So there we were, plans interrupted again. Across the street was a restaurant I wouldn’t have chosen, but we were hungry, and honestly, Bali often forces me to soften the edges of my expectations. So we went in.
Lunch ended up being a huge hit. And as we ate, we talked about how living here has taught us something simple but profound: you can begin your day with one plan, but you never know what unexpected adventure is going to show up. You might achieve part of what you intended, but the rest… the rest unfolds in ways you couldn’t have scripted.
We didn’t know how relevant that conversation was about to become.
After lunch, we wandered outside and heard singing — a bunch of men gathered in a corner, dressed in ceremonial garments, drinking, laughing, and radiating pure joy. They were celebrating the closing of Kuningan. Their happiness spilled into the street.
We paused, watching them from the other side of the road, and one of the men noticed our curiosity and motioned for us to come closer. Without overthinking it, we walked over. Minutes later we were sitting with them, singing, cheering, and letting ourselves be swept into their celebration. It felt spontaneous, effortless, and strangely perfect.
As we enjoyed the moment, I noticed the wall directly in front of me. A neon sign glowed in bright typography: “This is the sign you’ve been waiting for.”
I pointed it out to my husband because he’s been working on a typography art piece, and it felt like the universe dropping a little nudge of encouragement. I didn’t associate it with anything spiritual. I wasn’t thinking about symbolism or ancestors or messages. It was simply an interesting, intentional-feeling detail in an already beautiful moment.
But what I didn’t see — because my back was turned — was the wall behind me.
On that wall hung a glowing 11:11, a red dragonfly, a green dragonfly, and layers of sacred geometry, including an upright triangle. I only discovered this the next morning when we looked at a photo.
And that’s when everything clicked.
Over breakfast, my husband and I were talking about the magic of the day before — the men, the singing, the neon sign — when we realized the date. It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving, the same Saturday my father-in-law passed away three years earlier.
Suddenly the symbolism took on a deeper meaning:
11:11 is widely known as a spiritual portal, a moment of alignment and divine timing — a reminder that the unseen is communicating. Red dragonfly symbolizes courage, vitality, and ancestral presence. Green dragonfly represents healing, renewal, and blessings. Sacred geometry, especially the upward triangle, symbolizes spiritual awakening and the connection between heaven and earth — a theme deeply woven into Balinese cosmology.
And all of it appeared on the exact day when, according to Balinese tradition, ancestors ascend back to the heavens after visiting their families.
For ten days, during Galungan, we had quietly hoped for some kind of sign — a dream, a feeling, a whisper. Nothing had shown up.
But then, all at once, the signs were everywhere: the 11:11, the dragonflies, the geometry, the invitation from strangers, the neon message in front of me, the timing we hadn’t realized until the next morning.
It made me understand something I often forget: signs don’t always arrive in the ways we expect. They aren’t always mystical or dramatic. Sometimes they show up through a closed restaurant, a different lunch choice, a bunch of men celebrating their holiday, a neon reminder on a random wall, and a symbol glowing behind you that you won’t even notice until later.
Sometimes the universe speaks softly, trusting that when the moment is right, you’ll look back, connect the pieces, and finally recognize what was being offered all along.
Sometimes the message is already there — you just have to turn around to see it.
With love and courage,
Tania
