The Orange Thread: Woven into the Web of Signs
Hadrian, my husband, my mom, and I went to see Suzanne Giesemann’s new documentary based on her book Wolf’s Message—and what unfolded was a series of signs that still lingers in my heart. Three in particular stayed with us.
The first came even before the screening started. I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. A man leaned in and said, “You know, my wife is a scarf person.” If you know me, you know scarves are part of my being—I wear them every day, like a second skin. He smiled and added, “Seeing you reminded me of her.”
His daughter, sitting beside him, softly said, “It’s a sign, Dad. Mom is here.”
I realized then that his wife had died. And yet, what struck me was how present she felt in our exchange—how we were speaking of her in the present tense, as if she were still right there with us. It was a conversation across worlds, but without distance. It made me pause—how differently we experience presence when we recognize the soul doesn’t leave the room.
Goosebumps.
I asked what her favorite color is. The daughter replied, “Orange. She loves orange. She wears it boldly.”
Now here’s the backstory: two weeks ago, I felt this strange but strong urge to find a pair of orange pants—specifically, orange paired with black. I couldn’t shake it. And when that happens, I’ve learned to listen. I eventually found the exact pair I was imagining, from one of my favorite designers, Eileen Fisher. I’ve always loved her clean lines, bold colors, and the way her pieces feel both expressive and effortless.
That day, I wore them.
I turned to the man and his daughter and said, “Are you ready for another sign?” I stood up and showed them. I was wearing the orange pants.
Tears welled up in all of our eyes. Sandy, the woman who loved orange, was remembered in the most alive and beautiful way.
As Suzanne would say, this isn’t coincidence—it’s being connected to the web that we are all a part of. It felt like communion to me. When we are open, we begin to notice how energy speaks to us. In colors. In taps on the shoulder. In the timing of an outfit. There is a rhythm to it.
The second sign came in the car.
Hadrian and I had read Wolf’s Message before, so the story was familiar—but something about the documentary opened a deeper space in him. As we drove away, I asked what he thought.
"This movie just makes me feel so much different about death," he said. “And you know, Mom, that’s always a big quest for me… What happens when we die? And why are we here if we know we will die?”
Then, quietly, he added, “Wolf was misunderstood…”
Right at that moment, the radio came on.
The song? Waiting on the World to Change by John Mayer. The first line?
“Me and all my friends / We're all misunderstood…”
We looked at each other.
Then Hadrian said, “See… Wolf is in the web. And we really can’t wait for the world to change. We need to change how we think.”
Another truth-bump. Another thread woven into the night.
And then came the third sign—also in the car. My husband, Gianfranco shared something from earlier that day. A resident at the retirement community where he works had shown him a book written by her mother—an artist and photographer. The entire book was about Plymouth, Massachusetts.
I paused.
Because earlier during the film, I had been struck by a scene of breathtaking coastal beauty. I had turned to him and whispered, “Where is that? It’s so beautiful.”
The answer: Plymouth, MA.
And one more thread in the web: months ago, after I wrote The Call of the Wild Wolf for Choice magazine, my friend Beth Grossman said to me, “You need to speak with Suzanne Giesemann. She wrote Wolf’s Message—and now it’s becoming a film.” That conversation led me to Suzanne, and ultimately, to this night.
It’s all part of the weaving.
These signs, these alignments—they aren’t just beautiful. They’re reminders. That we’re part of something greater. That we are being met. That love lingers, speaks, and weaves through even the smallest details.
This film isn’t just a story—it’s a soul invitation. Wolf’s Message reminds us that we are all souls, all connected, and that love is the thread that binds us.
And sometimes, that love shows up in scarves, in orange pants, in a boy’s wise words, in a story shared after a film—and in the exact right song, at the exact right moment.
🧡 A Little Leadership Apothecary Practice: The Orange Thread
What caught your attention today? Was there a color, a phrase, a feeling you couldn’t explain? Did something ordinary feel oddly timed… strangely alive?
What if it wasn’t random? What if it was a thread—asking to be followed?
Are you willing to pause... and ask what it might be saying?
I would love to hear your stories...
#WolfsMessage #SuzanneGiesemann #SignsFromSpirit #SoulConnections #ParentingAndPresence #SpiritualDocumentary #PlymouthMA #WaitingOnTheWorldToChange #LoveIsTheConnector #WeAreAllSouls #SacredEveryday