Years ago, I was given a ticket to see TV psychic John Edward live in Cromwell, Connecticut. It was the first time I had seen a psychic gallery, long before I started doing galleries myself.

It’s funny the things that stick with you after some time passes. The thing I remember most from Edward’s presentation was something he said about the ways in which our loved ones communicate with us. Of course, he listed the usual: aromas, flickering lights, and dreams. Then he said this.

Our loved ones communicate to us through songs on the radio. I don’t know how they do it, but they do.

We all nodded our heads in agreement. How often has an unlikely song come on the radio at just the right time?

I’ve worked in radio. I’ve been the resident psychic of fourteen stations, and morning co-host of three. I know exactly how and why songs get played on the radio. The program director controls what gets played and when, not your dearly departed great aunt Martha.

Yet, we have all felt counseled, consoled and comforted by our loved ones in spirit, or by the Universe in general, when we have heard a specific song at a specific time.

It’s not just the radio. My friend and colleague Marcy Currier refers to her iPod Oracle. Hit shuffle. Whatever song comes up can be interpreted as your message.

The other day I was out on a fitness walk with my Apple Watch. I love to listen to my favorite tunes when I exercise. Five minutes into the walk the music suddenly stopped. No amount of button pressing could get the audio going, although everything seemed to look as if it were functioning normally.

I kept my headphones on because it felt silly to carry them and continued to walk in silence. That’s enjoyable, too. Yet, without the music, my brain usually finds its way to a problem it can chew on, either creative or strategic.

I had resigned myself to a silent walk when suddenly, while gnawing on a quandary, my smartwatch resumed functioning, playing a different song than it had been when it mysteriously petered out.

You may think I am modern and high tech with my Apple Watch and Bose headphones, but the truth is that I haven’t master playlists. All my favorite songs are in one ginormous playlist. This means that the odds of a particular song playing are five hundred to one.

The song that started playing was incredibly relevant to the question I was mulling over as I walked.

Again, I understand technology. Angels don’t operate my Apple Watch. Software does. Yet, one cannot argue the wisdom of an oracle, however it presents itself.

Maybe there is something inherently magical and symbolic about music. Maybe Spirit uses whatever earthly tools it can to get the message through.

Lately, I’ve started to take notice of whatever song is playing in stores and restaurants and look for meaning there.

Whether the images of tarot cards or the riff of a screamin’ guitar, art evokes feeling and energy in humans. Perhaps our guides, guardians, angels and ancestors are equally moved, and share that connection with us.