Photo by Nicolas Outin

How I Asked for a Sign (And Got One Named Mabel)

Are you someone who’s all about signs? Maybe you ask for them regularly. Maybe you’re curious. Or maybe you’re a skeptic who secretly wants to stay open.

Wherever you land, I want to share a story with you. It’s one that made me a believer.

First things first: you have to ask

A year or so ago, I read a book called Signs by Laura Lynne Jackson, a psychic medium. It was such a fun read. She shares story after story from her work, and the message underneath it all is simple: ask for signs, and be specific.

You can say it out loud. You can say it quietly in your head. It doesn’t matter. Just ask.

I’ll be honest, I’m still working out my beliefs about where signs come from. The universe, our ancestors, spirit, God, goddess, something we don’t have words for. I don’t have it all figured out. But I’m open, I’ve seen them, and after this story, I believe in them.

Here’s the catch, though. You can ask for signs all day long, but if your head is down in your phone, you’re going to miss them. We have to actually pay attention. We have to look up.

Meet Mabel Lowell

In the 1800s, an ancestor of mine named Mabel Lowell married a man named James Burnett. When they had their first son, they legally changed his last name from Burnett to Lowell so the Lowell name could carry on.

I have the original document from the state of Massachusetts, handwritten in beautiful old ink. For years, I saw it as a fun bit of family trivia. Cool, the Lowell name continued.

But alongside that, I’ve been in my own process around my name and my identity. I took my husband’s name quickly when we got married. That was right around the time my family of origin, the Lowell family, fell apart. My parents divorced. Then I became a mom.

There’s a line I find so thoughtful and provocative: When you get married, you lose your last name, and when you become a mom, you lose your first name.

A couple of years ago, it really hit me how much the Lowell name meant to me. It was tied to my foundation, my sense of who I am. So I reclaimed it. I’m Sarah Lowell Harmon. It’s my website, my Instagram handle, and it was a big part of stepping out under my own name.

Then, recently, during a meditation ceremony, I saw Mabel’s story through a completely new lens. This wasn’t just about keeping a family name alive. This was a woman in the 1800s whose son took her name. His mother’s name.

How badass is that?

I felt so connected to her. And out of nowhere, I decided I wanted to see the word “Mabel.” It’s not a name I hear often. I don’t live on Mabel Street. So I asked, and then I mostly forgot about it.

The puppy decision

Fast forward a couple of months. I’ve never really been a dog person. But a friend texted me that a breeder of Norwich Terriers had a new litter. These dogs are about as hypoallergenic as you can get, which matters because my daughter has allergies and asthma. There was one boy puppy available.

And I spiraled.

The mental load. The logistics. Everything that could go wrong. For 72 hours, I outsourced the decision to anyone who would listen. Basically: please just decide this for me.

Finally, I did what I support mothers to do. I got quiet. I sat in an Adirondack chair overlooking the lake, closed my eyes, and asked, “Are we supposed to get a puppy right now?”

What I heard instantly was: Wrong question. The question is, are you ready to add more love to your life?

That flipped everything. I’d been so focused on logistics that I hadn’t asked the question that actually mattered. I opened my eyes and saw a perfectly shaped heart cloud in the sky. (My husband rolls his eyes at this part. It was a moment.)

I picked up my phone and sent the deposit.

And then, Mabel

On the drive to pick up our puppy, Churro, it popped into my head again. I still hadn’t seen the word Mabel. I asked once more. Now would be a really good time, I thought. I was literally scanning street signs.

Then we picked up Churro, and the breeder told us his litter mates’ names. One of his sisters was named Mabel.

Are you kidding me?

I couldn’t have imagined a clearer, more fun answer. Right in the middle of the decision to, let’s be honest, blow up our well-oiled life with a puppy.

Why I’m sharing this now

Not gonna lie, these past few weeks with a new puppy have been a lot. There have been moments where I’ve thought, Why did we do this? Where’s the leash? Why aren’t the kids feeding him? Why am I the one getting up right now?

This sign helps me zoom out. The hard stage is real, and it’s also not the whole story. The question was never about logistics. It was about love.

Your invitation

So here’s what I’d love for you to try:

• Ask for a sign. Out loud or quietly.
• Be specific. A color, a song, a name, an animal.
• Stay open and look up. Put the phone down and pay attention.
• Be patient. The universe doesn’t work like Amazon Prime. It might not show up within 24 hours.

And when it does show up, I want to hear about it.

Listen to the full episode SPOTIFY or APPLE to hear me tell this story from the trails.

Send me your sign stories through a voice note HERE. I can’t wait to hear what shows up for you.