Fireworks & the #11

On most July 4 celebrations, we hang out with our neighbors, who usually buy a ton of fireworks and invite the neighborhood into their yard. But this afternoon as we were leaving the dog park, one of our friends suggested that we should head into town this evening for the fireworks display. So that’s what we decided to do.  We set an intention that we would experience some sort of synchro.

We left the house around 7:30, got to downtown West Palm Beach  about 35 minutes later. Downtown West Palm consists of alphabetized streets that run perpendicular to Flagler Drive, which parallels the intracoastal canal. There were so many people and cars headed toward Flagler that we wondered where to park.

All the spaces along the streets anywhere close to the intracoastal were taken, so we started looking for inexpensive parking lots. Every parking lot, though, probably by mutual agreement, was charging ten bucks, so we finally decided to pull into one of them and just pay the fee.

The guy at the front of the lot we chose directed us to park on the left-hand side. Rob pulled around this huge sign that protruded on the left side of the lot and there, right in front of us, was parking space #11. Today is 7/4, an 11. Synchro. Our spot. Rob pulled in.

Not a huge synchro, but for me 11 is always about hexagram 11 in the I Ching – Peace. I figured it would be a good evening.

The night was gorgeous, with nearly clear skies, a breeze blowing in off the ocean, and people pouring toward the intracoastal – families with kids and chairs and coolers, couples holding hands, laughter drifting through the air. We made our way past the band and the loud music, across the vast grassy expanse where people had set up blankets and chairs, and then crossed Flagler to the  intracoastal.

This area is where, during the winter months, the green market is held and where Judge Judy’s  huge yacht is docked. We had a synchro in this area earlier this year that involved that yacht and the #137.  The yacht is still docked there and we managed to finds spots where we could stand near the seawall, with a fantastic view of the fireworks. The sea air blew toward us constantly.

The fireworks started promptly at 9 and the display was awesome. Some of these displays reminded me how warp drive in the Star Trek movies is shown:

The display lasted 17 minutes and probably cost tens of thousands of dollars. But it was impressive. Even  more to the point, it was great to see so many people out and about, enjoying the night, the holiday, and each other.

At the end of the 17 minutes, the horn on Judge Judy’s yacht blew loudly, one of those haunting sounds you expect to emerge from some fog-shrouded port on Cape Cod, and everyone started heading back toward the parking lots.

Many of the streets were closed to car traffic and pedestrians filled the roads. The police presence was thick, but not oppressive. Rob and I spotted a bar with vacant stools parallel to the sidewalk, and decided to stop in for a drink and give the traffic – pedestrian and otherwise – time to clear out before we headed home.

The bar was divided up with many smaller bars and ours had less than a dozen patrons, each one an archetype of some sort. First, there was the waitress, scantily clad in what amounted to a skimpy bikini with a short white top over her bra. She had the body for it. Her body and effervescent personality brought in tips.

Then there was the young, lone dude,  immersed in his iPhone, sipping a beer. Another couple sat where the bar curved, a bald guy who seemed rather Zen, just taking it all in, and his blonde partner, who laughed loudly and often. A boisterous young man came up to the bar who apparently knew the waitress, and asked for a very strong drink. The waitress poured four shots of different liquors into his glass, added a dash of soda water, and he took  a long slug.

At this point, I whispered to Rob, “Gee, do you think anyone here has had an alien encounter?”

Right then, the boisterous man leaned forward to get a kiss from the waitress, and the black guy behind him – a friend – jerked the chair away and Mr. Boisterous sat back – and missed his chair and hit the floor. He popped up again, laughing, a man made of bouncy rubber, a jack-in-the-box, a lovable clown.

We left shortly afterward and I thought about hexagram 11. The ancient Chinese didn’t seem to have much of a sense of humor, so to their depiction of hexagram 11 as symbolic of peace, I would like to add: fun, enjoyment, camaraderie, the very stuff that makes us human.

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11 Responses to Fireworks & the #11

  1. DJan says:

    I loved being along with you on this trip, Trish. It is indeed very peaceful, and the sense of a time well spent. Thank you for sharing it.

  2. Darren B says:

    I’m reading a book called ‘Psyche’s Yearning’
    (you can download the introductory chapter for free,or buy the book here –
    https://drgillianross.com/shop/books/ )
    and came across a Rumi quote Gillian had in her book,

    “Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love.
    When you do things from your soul,a river moves through you,
    Freshness and deep joy are the signs ”

    so I used one of my pictures of a Citycat ferry going up the Brisbane river and put a quote on it through my paint program,but it didn’t quite express that feeling of joy and the Aha moment that sync gives you,so I found one of the river at night with fireworks going off and put it on that one as well,
    https://brizdazz.blogspot.com.au/2013/07/follow-your-bliss.html
    as some of my most awe inspiring times on that river have been under fireworks.
    In fact I’m sure that when I took the boys to see Jeff Lindsay speak at the Brisbane Writer’s Festival there was fireworks on the river that night,not because of the festival or Jeff being there,but because it coincided with ‘Riverfire’
    https://www.brisbanefestival.com.au/events/view/sunsuper-riverfire
    which is held every year on the river.
    Funny Connie should mention alcohol,because Gillian came into spiritual practices in her 40’s after a bout of alcoholism ruined her life.She is now 73 and doing great work.
    https://drgillianross.com/dr-gillian-ross/
    Also my real surname which I try not to use on the net is Brew…which is why on Facebook I use the name Broo instead.
    It just keeps friends and family from being able to Google me and gives me a bit of privacy without being ridiculed from people who I like,but may not be into the sort of whoo-whoo subjects I like to pursue as I follow my bliss.-)

  3. gypsy says:

    sounds like a fun evening – there is something about festive events that leaves a cloak of warmth about us i think – a sense of universal sameness of us all – had terrific mental image of the bar scene you describe so well – and the thing of fireworks that always strikes me is how the instrument of massive mahem [gun powder] can also be such a source of beauty –
    love the 11 synchro!

  4. Love seeing fireworks over water – great pics. Looks like you made the right decision about where to go – despite the car parking charges!

    And I see my comment verification number adds up to 11 (7+4) – so peace (and fun etc) all round.

  5. mathaddict3322 says:

    I guess my etheric “me” must have been hanging out in that bar with you guys! 🙂

  6. mathaddict3322 says:

    What beautiful photos! Do you ever wonder why humans are SOOOOO attracted to the lights and colors of fireworks? There seems to be a universal fondness for these
    “skylights”, except for folks who have had negative experiences with such lights and noise: soldiers in wars, etc. But I had a strange synchro with this post before I woke up this morning. In my pre-waking dream, Trish and Rob had come to visit me, and the plan had been that they would stay awhile for a chat. But when they came in, Trish told me she had to be somewhere to do something…I don’t recall what she had to do….and they couldn’t stay. I asked them if they had time for a drink, (odd, because I don’t drink), and they said sure. I told Rob where the liquor was kept, and he went to that cabinet down below the sink where there were various bottles of alcohol in brown bags. He took one of the bottles out and set it on the counter, then he took a second one out, and when he set it on the counter, the bottom of it cracked and some of the liquor leaked out on the counter. I woke up. I haven’t a clue what this dream indicated, if anything, but then I came and read this post and went “AHA! A synchro!” Just thought I’d share. More high weirdness!

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