RIP, Tigerlily

In 1997, I headed to Miami for the weekend so that my friend Phyllis Vega and I could work on our book Power Tarot. Megan, who was eight at the time, went with me, and the plan was that she would play with Phyllis’s granddaughter, Jessie, who was the same age, while Phyllis and I worked. That part of the equation worked well. The part that was unpredictable was that Megan and I stopped at a pet store.

This is a dangerous thing to do when you’re the sort of people who are taken in by puppy breath, by kitties who want play. Megan and I walked out of that store with a five-week-old tiger kitten, her gray and silver fur  as fine and distinctive as silk. Tiger gave Megan and Jessie plenty of focus on that weekend.

For the longest time, Tigerlily ruled the roost. She occupied the foot of our bed, was my dad’s faithful daytime companion when he lived with us. Then we moved and boarded her and our two other cats at the vet during the chaotic move twenty miles or so northwest of where we’d been living for 12 years.

For the last thirteen years, Tiger lived here in our home with the lush backyard,  chasing lizards, snoozing in patches of sunlight during the winter, and always eating whatever we gave her. She liked Megan’s coffee yogurt, bits of broccoli, tuna in any form, cheese, salad dressing, popcorn. She was our feline vacuum cleaner.

During the 11 years we had our golden retriever, Jessie, Tiger was friendly – but never chummy. The day we adopted Noah, Tiger ran outside and stayed out in the backyard for two days until she determined that Noah wasn’t going to hurt or chase her. Noah couldn’t care less about chasing cats. Cats are part of his landscape, his world, as intrinsic to his life as the dog park and treats.

Tiger gradually warmed up to Noah to the point where the two of them would share a couch, a lick, a nudge. As Tiger ailed for the last several weeks- she was nearly 17 – Noah was attentive,  solicitous. They even sat on the couch together. He knew, as did we, that she was dying. But I thought that as long as she was eating and drinking and didn’t seem to be in pain, I would let nature take its course.

But it eventually got to the point  where I no longer knew what to feed her because she had trouble eating everything. She tried, but she couldn’t chew and then she would start choking.

This morning, I gave her some cheerios in milk, mixed in well-squashed sardines and she ate what she could. When I went out into the kitchen, she was foraging in the cabinet where the cat food is kept and glanced around at me. She emitted a soft, pathetic meow and I realized she was starving to death. A bib of milk and food covered her snout and chest  and she suddenly reminded me of my dad in his final days, when the mere act of lifting a fork to his mouth was nearly impossible. I knew it was time.

I was visibly upset when I walked into the vet’s office. On the sign in sheet, I entered the reason for the visit: needs to be put to sleep.  The clerk, a woman who has worked for Ira- the vet – ever since we started going to him years ago – came over with a box of Kleenex. “Listen,” she said quietly. “A friend of mine had a near-death experience several years ago. When she returned, she was psychic, she sees spirits – of humans and animals. Tigerlily will be back.”

Then she told me that the other day, she’d found an injured kitten – part of one rear leg had been torn off, possibly by a hawk, and the other leg was broken. She rushed it to the office and they were able to save it. “We lose one, we save another.”

In the examining room, Ira’s son, who’s in his early twenties and is studying to be a vet, explained that Tiger would be sedated first, then put to sleep. “I took a double take when I saw her name,” he said.

“Why?”

“Well, the other day one of our employees rushed in with this wounded kitten. We fixed her one broken leg, but had to amputate the other to save her. She’s doing fine now. I named her Tigerlily.”

Stunned at the synchronicity, at the strange comfort it provided, I just looked at him, then managed to stammer, “Wow. That’s an uplifting coincidence. Thank you for that.”

“Hey,” he said softly, passing me the box of Kleenex. “They come into life and they leave life. You’re doing the right thing. Seventeen is a long life for a cat.”

I stayed with her for the sedation and the final shot, petting her, whispering to her, reassuring her that Jessie, Whiskers, and even Kali the bird would be there to greet her. And that she would be back.

We buried her under a grapefruit tree in our backyard. Rob put a large sidewalk tile over the grave so it won’t be dug up by dogs or other predators, and now I’d like to find some pretty flowers to put around it.

Thank you, Tiger, for being my companion for so many years.

Posted in animals as messengers, synchronicity | 25 Comments

Indiana Jones and Reddit

 Our daughter was home this weekend and, in one of those random moments in family life, asked if either of us has used reddit. Well, we’d heard of it, but no, we hadn’t used it. Reddit is a social news and entertainment website where registered users submit content in the form of either a link or a text post.

Megan felt it would be a great publicity venue, and suggested that Rob should go on reddit, introduce himself as the author of six original Indiana Jones novel and the novelization of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and that he was open to answering questions about the books.Here’s the link to the discussions/questions.

 Within less than 60 seconds, questions started going up. This leads me to believe that some readers live on reddit in the same way that some people live on Facebook. So while Megan and I listened to an interview with Esther Hicks on the Hay House site – 70 minutes that included an interview with Esther and with Abraham – Rob sat at his computer answering dozens of questions from Indy fans.

 These questions ranged from minutia about the characters in the Indy saga to questions about writing, plotting, characterization. Someone from Chile asked a question in Spanish, so he responded in Spanish and someone in a later comment translated the comment.  Someone else asked about Aliens in the Backyard, others asked about synchronicity. After an hour and a half, Rob said he was signing off for the night but would be open to answering more questions the next day.

 Megan, who had set up the account for Rob, kept reading more questions as the three of us were watching a movie, and I suspect he’ll spend another couple hours tomorrow answering the questions. What I learned from this is the power of an archetype – which Indiana Jones certainly is. It was surprising to hear questions from people who had read the Indy books in elementary school – and are now adults – and traced their love of reading back to those books. This kind of feedback for a writer is priceless.

 When a writer writes that first word or that first sentence, there is usually a hope somewhere in the back of his or her mind that the story which unfolds will attract readers. Inspire them to read more and more. One commenter said his mother used to read him the Indy books at night, before bedtime. Another commenter said that when he was in fifth grade, he did a book report on Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and read a portion of the book in front of the class that included the word shit. He remarked that it was pretty cool to be standing there and saying that word and the teacher couldn’t do anything because it was in the book.

 When Megan read this comment aloud, Rob laughed. “Yeah, and after that, Lucas Film told me not to use any cuss words in the books.”

 What seems clear is that archetypes are as  Carl Jung described them, unconscious patterns that are intrinsic to all of us, that speak to us at a profound level regardless of culture or religion or ethnicity. There is probably an Indiana Jones or Marion Ravenwood in many of us-  the raconteur, rebel,  rogue, adventurer – following some mysterious quest into parts unknown.

 

Posted in synchronicity | 14 Comments

Angie’s Transformative Synchros

 Today as I headed out to the hair salon, I set my intention to experience a synchronicity or to hear about one. I heard several, all from Angie, who cuts my hair.

Angie is about 48, has two grown children, and a son headed to college next year. The kids are from her first marriage, which ended after 20 some odd years. After the divorce, Angie met Patrick, who is Mexican-American,  and in 2008, they got engaged. Angie broke it off because his young children from his first marriage came to live with them and it didn’t work out. After a separation, his kids returned to Texas to live with their mother and Patrick and Angie got back together and were married. Then Patrick’s teenage daughter moved in with them again and late last year they got divorced.

I did her chart around this time and one of the things I told her was that around the time of the new moon in Cancer in July 201, she might be headed overseas.

When Angie broke off the first engagement, she had what turned out to be two pivotal dreams. In the first, she was in a market to buy bread. “The clerk told me not to buy bread from the front of the store because it was stale. She directed me to the back of the store for fresher bread. A bald-headed man who spoke with an accent told me I’d have to wait, that the bread had to be kneaded and baked. So I waited. In the dream, my mother told me  that the kneading of bread means I had to be patient. Very patient.”

On March 26, 2013, Angie met the bald-headed man who spoke with an accent. He pulled in behind her at the garage where she’d taken her car and they got to talking  as their cars were worked on. Eduardo is Brazilian. His job? It turns out he owns a business that distributes bread around our county.  Bald, accent, bread: Angie suddenly remembered her dream from five years earlier.  

She also realized that exactly five years earlier, on March 26, 2008 she had received her first passport. At the time, Patrick was annoyed by it. “Why do you need a passport?” he’d asked her.

“I don’t know,” she’d replied. “Maybe we’re going overseas.”

Well, she and Eduardo will be traveling to Brazil in July so she can meet his family.

In the second dream, she and Patrick were in a parking lot, about to drive somewhere and they were already late.   “Two young Mexican women came up to the window and asked him for directions. He told me he was going to help them and when I pointed out that we were already late, he got out anyway to talk to the women. I drove off, leaving him behind.”

On the day their divorce became final, Angie and Patrick left the courtroom and walked downstairs, so they could sign papers that would enable her to revert back to her maiden name. As they were leaving this area, the papers signed, two young Mexican women stopped Patrick and asked for help. “They were the same women from my dream, Trish, long dark hair, young. Patrick asked me to wait, said he would be right back. I kept on walking and  left him behind, just like in my dream.”

+++

When our lives are in transition, synchronicities proliferate and our unconscious, it seems, is eager to help out. Even though Angie didn’t have any idea what the two dreams meant when she had them, they were vivid enough so they made an impact on her and she remembered them five years later.

Posted in love, synchronicity | 13 Comments

Mechanical Synchronicity

Here’s a link to the radio show we did last night with paranormal review radio. Hosts Anthony and Lucy asked great questions!

Well, it’s not exactly synchronicity, but it’s a case getting synchronized–coming into alignment.

Posted in synchronicity | 4 Comments

Allies of Humanity

 A few months ago, a woman name Kate Walker contacted us about a possible interview for a movie she and her partner are shooting on synchronicity.  She thought she would be in Miami sometime this summer, so we agreed we would drive down there for the interview.

Last week, Katy emailed me that she’d just heard one of our radio interviews about Aliens in the Backyard,  and that she was discovering that synchronicity was threaded through UFO encounters and abductions. We emailed back and forth for several days and she sent me a PDF file for a book called Allies of Humanity by Marshall Vian Summers. This is book 1 in what is now a trilogy and is being offered free at this link.  It’s also attached as a PDF at the end of this post.

The book consists of five briefings by a consortium of entities who have been observing the alien intervention of our planet. They observe – but don’t interfere, except to impart information. And the info is fascinating, about how these intervening aliens themselves aren’t evil, but simply have their own agenda. And their agenda involves utilizing humanity and this planet’s resources for themselves.

To that end, they are skilled at what the consortium calls the “mental environment,”  where the perceptions, the realities, that abductees experience are manipulated and sculpted.  Because they are so skilled in this mental environment, they are able to convince some abductees that they are here to help humanity, that they are spiritually evolved beings.

This premise certainly addresses the schism in the UFO community: the John Mack camp that believes  encounters are ultimately beneficial and the Budd Hopkins/David Jacobs camp that says these encounters are anything but.  For Rob and me, the bottom line is simple: when someone is taken against his or her will, it’s a violation. It’s wrong. No matter how you try to spin it after the fact, a travesty has occurred.

With channeled material like this, it either resonates or doesn’t. When I read my first Seth book in 1974, it resonated. When I read my first Ramtha book (JZ Knight), it did not resonate.  I tossed Ramtha in the trash and kept reading Seth. Allies of Humanity resonates for me…but with a few small caveats. I was never able to get through A Course in Miracles  because of the pervasive references to god. When I tried to read Miracles, I felt like a  12-year-old kid forced to attend catechism. It turned me off. Yet, people I respect rave about the book.

There is some of this god stuff in Allies, but more of it on the website. I suspect this is where the personality of the messenger (Marshall Summers) comes through.  At no other point in this material is there much of a sense of Summers at all. In the preface of book 2, it’s noted that the six briefings that comprise book 2 were channeled within 24 hours. That speaks of incredible creativity. When a novelist is hooked into characters and story, into plot and conflict and resolution, it’s as if you become a channel for the story itself. So I understand that kind of feverish pace.

But there seems to be a dire urgency in book 2. The Allies contend that the planets, its resources, and humanity are the ultimate prize in some sort of galactic war where military force, by agreement, is forbidden, and just about everything else is fair game. The allies talk about the importance of individuality, personal freedom, and spiritual knowledge to counteract the manipulation by aliens. They emphasize the importance of unity in mankind – instead of the divisiveness we see now.

What intrigues me about book 1 is nuance. Even the bad guys  aren’t evil. They simply have an agenda, like the Europeans did when they arrived in the Americas. And the supposed good guys aren’t rushing in to defend anyone, but are imparting information about how humanity can inure itself to this intervention. I’d like to know, however, how the aliens who are intervening got here. Are they from another planet? Are they inter-dimensional? Nothing that concrete is offered.

They do talk about trade routes in the universe that these various alien cultures use, but again, no specifics. Betty Hill talked about trade routes she was shown during her and Barney’s abduction and in 1968, an elementary school teacher and amateur astronomer, Marjorie Fish, decided to decipher Betty’s star map. In other words, Betty gave more specifics than the allies do.

 Do let us know what you think about the material.

Posted in synchronicity | 13 Comments

Writer Idea Synchros

 

Synchronicities sometimes surface in the oddest ways. A few months ago, I was uploading Lagoon, one of my backlist titles, to smashwords, and received a whole bunch of error messages. So I contacted the woman who had formatted the book and she corrected them. Then I successfully uploaded the book.

The next day, I received an email from Susan Berliner, saying that she had downloaded a sample of Lagoon because the novel is in the same genre – horror – as what she writes. She had found an error on page 2. In formatting these books, letters or words sometimes are dropped, so I went back into the formatted version and corrected it. Or thought I did. At any rate, I checked out her website and discovered an interesting story about how she had come up with the idea for her novel, Dust.  I wrote her back and told her a similar incident had triggered my idea for Black Water, which was published by Kensington in 2003 and has been reincarnated as an ebook. We discovered some other things we have in common. But the synchro lies in the similarities of the events that birthed two novels.

The inspiration for her novel came from a something that happened in Maine, where Stephen King lives. When I found the little article online, I saved it, and, since it happened to live in Maine, expected Stephen King to use it for a future novel. He didn’t – and so, several years later, I did.”

May 19, 2003:

LEBANON, Maine – A sudden windstorm lifted a roof off an auto body shop, collapsing most of the two-story building and killing the owner.

A meteorologist at the National Weather Service said Vintage Auto Body may have been destroyed by a “dust devil,” explaining that the weather conditions were favorable:  Dust devils – miniature tornados that travel along the ground and suck dust into the air – appear on sunny spring days when temperatures rise quickly in the morning.

“Sometimes the weirdest things happen on clear days,” the meteorologist said.

Here’s a synopsis of her book, Dust:

While unloading groceries in her Rock Haven condo, Karen McKay notices a strange swirl of red, green, and blue dust. The swirl follows her inside, lifts a porcelain ballerina from her wall unit, twirls it in the air, and throws it to the floor, shattering it into pieces.

The following evening, Karen hears her neighbor’s dog barking loudly. Upon investigation, she finds her neighbor, Marion, at the bottom of the stairs—dead. At the top of the stairs, a colorful whirlwind of dust circles ominously.

Now the feisty librarian must consider the unthinkable: Could the dust be responsible for her neighbor’s death and, if so, would it kill again? Karen turns to her ex-husband, Jerry, for help and together they bravely confront the mysterious dust. But will their daring actions cost them their lives?

Here’s where my idea for Black Water originated:

In 2002, while visiting the Florida keys, we heard about a mysterious vastness of black water that supposedly was about the size of Lake Okeechobee – 730 square miles.  No one knew what it was or what was causing it. There was speculation that it was caused by runoff from the sugar cane fields, or that that it might be similar to red tide. Marine biologists analyzed it. Fish avoided the area. I wondered if perhaps it was nature’s version of a black hole. From that thought, Black Water, a time travel story, was born:

For years, children have been disappearing without a trace in the Florida Keys. No one, even the FBI, has suspected it could be the work of a single twisted psychopath consumed by a desire to change his past and his future. But when he abducts the daughter  of psychic Mira Morales from a deserted beach where the two have spent the day, Mira pursues him through the darkest passages of the unknown, to a place where every choice has terrifying consequences that no one, not even a psychic,  can possibly foresee.

Other parallels have surfaced, too. Susan and I are both ex-teachers married to writers. She and her husband, like Rob and me, collaborate in their writing. She, like Rob, used to be a newspaper reporter.

So, from an upload that had some errors, synchronicities  were born.

Posted in creativity, synchronicity, writers | 5 Comments

Jung on Film

There’s something of a synchro for me connected to this video. Yesterday I was writing about a series of interviews that Carl Jung gave to a doctor in Houston in 1957. Today, Bernard Beitman, a visiting professor of psychiatry at University of Virginia who is writing a book on coincidence, sent me a different video about Jung. I started watching it, then noticed, to the right,  a video called Interview with Jung.  It’s fascinating to hear him talk about his relationship with Freud.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-kdF-qV6PpE

 

Posted in synchronicity | 9 Comments

Lucky Hugh

If you scour the Internet in search of unusual coincidences, sooner or later you’re likely to run across a story – or make that stories – about Hugh Williams. These are seafaring coincidences that span nearly 200 years.  Here is one version:

A vessel went down in the Menai Strait off the coast of Wales on December 5, 1664. All 81 passengers were lost with the exception of a man named Hugh Williams.

On December 5, 1785, 121 years later, another ship sank in the Menai Strait, and again all of the passengers drowned except one – Hugh Williams.

Move ahead to December 5, 1820 and another ship, a 25-passenger vessel, sank in the Menai Strait. And once again there was a sole  survivor. You guessed it, his name was Hugh Williams.  We could call him the unsinkable Hugh Williams. And notice the month and day are the same each time, as well as the survivor.

Where did this story originate and is there any truth to it? Or is it  just an old maritime tale that has been passed down over time?

The first reference to the unsinkable Hugh Williams is found  on pages 281-282 of North Wales, Including its Scenery, Antiquities and Customs,  1804, by Rev. William Bingley. It describes a Hugh Williams who escaped from a shipwreck on December 5, 1785.

A version of the three-part story appears as a footnote on page 155 of Cliffe’s Book of North Wales, published in 1851.   The story includes the sinkings on December 5, 1664 and 1785, with Hugh Williams, the only survivor.  The date of the 1820 sinking, however, is Aug. 5, not Dec. 15. But Hugh Williams is still listed as the sole survivor.

The footnote goes on to mention that, “Again on May 20th, 1842, a boat was crossing the Menai, near the spot where the above catastrophes happened, when she upset with 15 passengers,  and all perished save one; but in this instance the name of the survivor was Richard Thomas.

Another book, Guide to North Wales, by Francis Coghlan, was published in 1860. It repeats the story of the three shipwrecks, and includes the August date for the third sinking.

Apparently, an English writer decided this would make a better story if it was brought closer to home. So here’s another version:

On December 5th 1660, a ship sank in the straights of Dover and the only survivor was named Hugh Williams.

On 5th December 1767, another ship sank in the same waters and 127 passengers and crew members died. The only survivor was a Hugh Williams.

On August 8, 1820, a picnic boat capsized on the Thames. There was one survivor – Hugh Williams.

On 10th July 1940, a British trawler was destroyed by a German mine. Only two men survived, one man and his nephew, and they were both named Hugh Williams.

Notice how the Dec. 5 date only occurs twice and the years vary from the earlier version, and the clever twist when there are two survivors. Of course, they are both Hugh Williams.

What are we to make of it all? It seems there is a basis for at least the Hugh Williams story. But it seems that the Dec. 5 on the 1820 sinking probably doesn’t ring true. So the version in the video probably has been altered to make the story seem more mysterious.

But how mysterious is this story?

Coghlan’s account of the three shipwrecks ends with the comment: “This extraordinary coincidence can only be explained by the circumstance that the name of Hugh Williams is very common in these parts.”

Blogger Rick Spillman, who gathered some of these references, not only notes that in Wales Hugh Williams is a common name, but that the Menai Strait  “is a particularly nasty body of water with strong currents and rough seas.”

While the video asks if the Hugh Williams saga is the strangest coincidence ever recorded, the answer is probably not. But it’s a good one, a classic, and historical.

 

Posted in synchronicity | 4 Comments

Squirrel?

Nika and Noah, in my messy office, peering out the window at – a squirrel? Well, maybe.  But they could also be drawn to the window by some  dim hope that a squirrel might appear and help itself to our ripening mangos.

Or maybe it’s lizards that attract them? Or birds? That’s the thing with these two: they are so fully ensconced in the moment that everything else is forgotten. I wonder about that, how we humans can be so fully immersed in the now that everything else falls away.

I believe this is what happens during meditation, when we sleep and dream, even when we’re driving some familiar road and enter a dreamlike state. At those moments, we aren’t fretting about bills, schedules, who said what to whom and oh yeah, my feelings are hurt and suppose, what if…?

Then Rob made some noise from the other room, the noise that meant he was headed off to teach a yoga class. The  dogs turned their heads simultaneously, as if checking to see what was going on in the other world, that place where the humans don’t get excited about squirrels.

And they quickly turned their attention back to the window and whatever it was outside that fascinated and riveted them.

So whenever I’m in the midst of some dramatic moment, worrying about this or that, I’m going to utter one word: SQUIRREL. And it will snap me back to this image, this NOW, and hopefully will plop me into the current of NOW.

 

Posted in synchronicity | 9 Comments

San Diego UFO

This video of a UFO captured by a photographer is surprisingly clear. Thanks to Debra Page for alerting us to it!

 

Posted in synchronicity | 7 Comments