Letter 22: The Signal - Attuning to the Pulse of Life

“Instructions for living a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”

— Mary Oliver

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Dear Future Human,

This is life—wonderful and horrible things will happen. Don’t run away. Don’t go numb. Stay awake to it all! You are born fully equipped to meet life as it is.

So much of our lives is driven by a single-minded focus toward seeking, achieving, or avoiding. Every day, we hurriedly pass by multitudes of life’s miracles—a child’s smile, an ant hill, a song—as if we are all alone in the world. We live inside love, but we don’t feel, see, or immerse ourselves in it.¹

We have tossed this abstract and elusive word around so frequently that we have no ability to recognize it when we encounter it. Yet if you pause for one moment to reflect, you may realize how much of your life is about seeking to experience love.

What exactly is the love we are seeking?

I call it the Signal: the raw, unfiltered pulse of life moving through every organism in constant dialogue with its surroundings. It has been present since the birth of the cosmos and will continue long after we are gone. The Signal is not a state we achieve, but a living current that is always here guiding, informing, and nudging life toward growth and renewal. Physicist Fritjof Capra calls this the “web of life”—all living systems exist in constant communication, exchanging signals that coordinate life at every scale.

To sense it, however, we must be in a certain state ourselves. Just as static on a radio can drown out the broadcast, our defenses, distractions, and distortions can obscure the Signal. When we grow still enough, attuned enough, it comes through—sometimes as a whisper, sometimes as a force—pointing us toward the next right action.²

It is always transmitting.

You are a whole organism, in relationship with millions of other whole organisms, responding to the world as it unfolds.³ You can’t control it—no one can. But you can meet life as it is, not as you think, wish, or believe it should be.

Here’s what a simple moment in a day can look like when there is attunement to the Signal of life.

It was a striking, sunny, spring Sunday afternoon. The air was crisp and dry. A light wind was softly brushing by the sea of people milling about on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum. There was a sense of burgeoning joy and wonderment, as if we were all experiencing life for the first time. As I stood at the top of the stairs waiting to meet my girlfriend, a rush of alertness coursed through my being. I could feel each sense of my body come to attention; the fresh, sweet smell of budding trees and flowers; the gentle caress of the wind against my body; the bright, radiating sunlight illuminating everything it touched; the cacophony of conversations, children’s gleeful cries, cars passing, trees rustling, all entered my ears in symphonic concert. I tasted its entirety.

Standing there, drinking it in, swimming in the ocean of creation, my soul soared. I began to scan my surroundings with this fresh lens, perceiving details I don’t generally notice. As I glanced toward the entrance of the museum, I suddenly saw him.

He was there all along. He was holding a large black broom, sweeping the floor. My eyes rested on him, watching his intent movements. I could feel the total focus and care present in his being. There was a sacred devotion in his actions. He was not merely sweeping; he seemed to be serving something greater.

Neuroscientist Iain McGilchrist describes two different ways of paying attention. One is narrow and focused, scanning for what we’re looking for. The other is open and relational, taking in the whole living scene.⁴ On those museum steps, my attention shifted. What had been invisible suddenly became vivid.

I walked over and said, “Hello.” He broke into a huge smile. We talked about the weather, about winter finally ending. He asked and I responded that I am waiting for someone to join me. I thanked him for the care he brought into his work. He positively exuded light as he shared his story with me. I felt his joyful pride in his work.

When my friend arrived, he set down his broom and stepped away, returning a moment later with two museum tickets held out in his hand. I was speechless. In that instant, I knew that beneath the surface of our encounter we had touched something profound—an intimate moment of genuine connection between our deepest selves.

In that moment, he and I broke through our habitual perception, discovering the richness that is always all around us. We saw, felt and acknowledged each other intimately. Appreciation and love were unabashedly present. That brief, almost invisible exchange revealed something essential: with full attention, every person and every act holds intrinsic value.

Then there are moments when life pulls the rug out from underneath our feet. A diagnosis you didn’t see coming. A relationship that ends before you are ready, leaving you terrified and overwhelmed. How we meet these moments can shape everything that follows. When we meet them with presence, tuning into the Signal, the wisdom of our body, our emotions, and intuition, we move with awareness instead of resistance. The pain doesn’t disappear; but we are no longer alone with it. We have a guide, a compass pointing toward what needs attention, care, or action.

What I have learned is that tuning in to the Signal won’t make me a perfect person, but it can reveal more of my wholeness. Tuning in to the Signal won’t make you perfect. It reveals wholeness. By wholeness, I mean the capacity to sense, feel, learn, and respond—to meet life with the full intelligence of your body, mind, and heart. We were born with this capacity.⁵

Yes, there will be situations you don’t yet know how to handle. But when you are connected to your whole self, you can learn. You can adapt. You can respond.

Wholeness fosters integrity. You don’t become a different version of yourself depending on who you are with. You are guided by the same core values regardless of whom you are with, your boss, your parent, or a friend. Whenever you compartmentalize any part of you, you lose contact with the Signal. Wholeness means embracing every part of you: your limitations, insecurities, your stories, your gifts, your joys, your courage, all that makes you who you are.⁶

You have sensed the Signal before. It feels like a soft resonance, an intuitive knowing in your body that lets you know something is true or something is off. Think of locking eyes with an old friend or a partner and feeling a quick shock of recognition—that you really see them. Think of what happens when you plunge a hand into a cold stream of running water. You don’t think your way into these moments, you simply experience them. The world and your sense of it exist in one undifferentiated experience. Water/wet. Water/cold, chills in your body.

Or perhaps you know this feeling from smaller moments: The way your body relaxes when you hear your favorite song. The moment when you are listening to a friend share something vulnerable and you feel your heart open without any effort on your part. These aren’t mystical experiences—they are the moments readily available to us when our Signal is not obstructed.

What is happening, in these moments, in those spaces, that allow you to connect to your Signal? The distance dissolves. You are undefended, unseparated. Life is no longer something acting upon you — you are participating in it, a living thread in an ever-unfolding tapestry.

When you see, feel, and accept the totality of life as it arises within you and around you, you experience direct reality as its occurring. When you stop trying to control your feelings and thoughts, and don’t chase illusory desires or avoid imagined threats, the Signal becomes. It is as if there is an inner floodlight revealing to you the wholeness of life’s intricate and elegant design. You begin to see how things fit together. How you fit. You discover that belonging is not something you earn; it is something you remember.

I met with a mother who told me about the night she stopped fighting her toddler at bedtime. Instead of turning it into a battle, she sat down next to his bed and took a breath. She didn’t try to fix his big feelings or rush him to sleep. She just stayed with him. “I stopped seeing his crying as a problem to solve,” she said, “and started seeing it as communication. When I stopped pushing against him, something in both of us softened. He wasn’t my adversary. He was just a small human who had a big day, and I was there with him.”

That’s the Signal at work. Suddenly, she could see the larger design: his need for safety and her need for rest didn’t have to compete. With presence, what looked like conflict turned into connection.

When you’re truly attuned, things feel clearer and more alive. There’s a natural energy and direction, guided by curiosity rather than effort. You feel a sense of freedom and ease, clarity and confidence about what to do next, and an equal comfort with not knowing.

When you’re truly attuned, there’s no gap between who you are and how you act. You’re not thinking your way into expression. You’re simply being, and action flows from there.

A musician friend described this feeling perfectly: “When I’m truly playing—not performing, not trying to impress, just playing—there’s no ‘me’ playing the piano. There’s just music happening. My fingers know where to go before my mind does. I’m not choosing the notes; the music is choosing me.”⁷

The invitation is always here. Step into this magnificent symphony of existence.

Listen deeply.

Move slowly enough to feel the pulse of life itself.

To feel what is actually happening.

To meet life as it is.

This is the Signal calling you home to yourself.

In awe and in love,

Ronit

1. Yosi Amram PhD,, “Beauty as Medicine for the Soul”, Psychology Today, May 2025.

2. A.P. Jha, J. Krompinger & M.J. Baime, “Mindfulness training modifies subsystems of attention,” Springer Nature Link, June 2007.

3. S.F. Gilbert, J. Sapp & A.I. Tauber, “A Symbiotic View of Life: We Have Never Been Individuals,” Quarterly Review of Biology, December 2012.

4. Iain McGilchrist, “The Master and His Emissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World,” Yale University Press, 2009.

5. Ann S. Masten, “Ordinary Magic: Resilience Processes in Development,” American Psychologist, March 2001.

6. B.Q. Ford, P. Lam, O.P. John & I.B. Mauss, “The psychological health benefits of accepting negative emotions and thoughts,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, December 2018.

7. Arne Dietrich, “Neurocognitive mechanisms underlying the experience of flow,” Conscious Cognition, December 2004.

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