It was a warm day in July. Me, my husband and daughter – Deena were in the car, on the way to the beach. Deena suggested that we play a game. She wanted to find a car for each colour of the rainbow. Sounds easy, right? And yes, it was pretty straightforward to spot blue, green, yellow, orange and red cars. But have you ever noticed, that there aren’t many purple cars out there? At least we didn’t see any. Despite my husband trying to be silly as he called every dark blue car – purple, during the 1.5 hrs long drive, from London to Bournemouth we didn’t see a single purple car.
Eventually, Deena made her peace with not being able to find a true purple car.
But for some reason, I couldn’t. I searched for a purple car everywhere I went – in parking places and on the road, but to no avail.
Time passed.
In the meantime, I had been going through some challenges at my work as a Software Engineer. That and the deep desire to pursue a much different vocation – writing, had made me consider abandoning my career of 12 years and start a new. It was a tough choice, everyone around me was telling me how amazing and well paid my current job is. And I agreed.
Nevertheless, my heart was screaming a loud and undeniable “No more!” I had been ignoring these inner cries for some time, but it felt as if I could no longer. Over the years, they caused me severe anxiety, unexplainable stomach aches, low self-esteem, and left me feeling completely insecure in both my professional and personal life.
One day, I felt an overwhelming urge to follow that voice—a strange impulse of bravery. Though my salary was my only source of income, I also had no desire to search for another job. I just wanted to write. That’s all. With no back up financial plan, or any plan for that matter, I called in a meeting with my manager. And let her know that I needed to leave, immediately. She listened to my reasons and agreed.
A week passed, I had left my job and had started to make plans for my writing and my future. It was all confusing and overwhelming. The excitement of the moment of freedom had started to slowly dissipate. And doubts started to creep in.
What if I can’t make it as a writer?
What will I do after I run out of money?
These and many similar questions occupied my mind for some time.
It was a couple of months after our journey to Bournemouth. I felt stressed and unclear.
Did I make the right choice of leaving my job?
What do I do from here?
It was September, and in England the temperatures had already started to drop dramatically; it was cold and gloomy. As always, when I was feeling overwhelmed and confused, I went out for a walk to clear my mind. With headphones in my ears and the music turned up, in an attempt to muffle the negative voice in my head. Deep in thought, I was walking down the street, not far from my home, the place where I had walked hundreds of times before.
Suddenly, right in front of me, I saw it! A purple car emerged from the parking area of one of the buildings on my right and crossed in front of me at the pedestrian crossing, just a couple of meters away.
It existed! It really did!
In that moment, all of my stress, confusion, and overwhelm seemed to vanish into thin air. This purple car, appearing out of nowhere, felt like a sign — a gentle reassurance that everything would be okay in the end. A reminder that this world is still full of wonder, beauty, and bountiful opportunities, even when we can’t always see them. It felt like a quiet confirmation that I had made the right choice, and all I needed to do now was trust the path unfolding before me.
Strangely enough, this happened again a few months later. I was facing another tough decision, and the moment I resolved to follow a certain path, another purple car crossed my way. It felt like the universe whispering once more, “You’re on the right track.” These rare moments have taught me to trust life’s subtle signals — and to listen to the quiet voice of my own intuition.
Since then, I’ve come to believe that when we quiet the noise of doubt and stay open, life often sends us small signs to guide and reassure us. Whether it’s a rare purple car or a simple inner nudge, these moments remind us to trust ourselves — and to trust the unfolding journey, even when we can’t see the whole road ahead.