Thieves

This story comes from author Roy McConnell. The synchronicity is that Roy, a teenage thief at the time, was inadvertently turned away from this lifestyle by another thief.

“I was fifteen years old and living as a street person in Vancouver, British Columbia. I had met up with a professional thief who taught me how to make a living on the street by stealing from people’s cars and fencing the goods to a local fence. One night we broke into a vehicle in a private garage attached to house and stole the eight track tape deck and all of the tapes. While we were making our getaway we saw a police car cruising by and got scared. My friend went into KFC and got a couple of bags. We split the stolen items between the two bags and went our separate ways to decrease the chances of both of us being caught. The more I walked, the more frightened I got.

“I saw a half-ton truck waiting to turn at a street corner. I went to the passenger door and told the man that the police were chasing me and I needed to get away. I must have been in sheer panic mode because nothing else can explain why I did such an irrational thing. He told me to throw the stuff in the back of the truck and get in. He drove me to Stanley Park, but on the way he told me that he was a supplier of heroine to drug dealers and an art thief. He wanted to hire me to distribute heroine from an apartment that he would set me up in as well as paying me five hundred dollars per week. The man drove me to a secluded area in Stanley Park and continued trying to convince with a number of perks such as the dealers women who pick up the heroine like sex with young guys like me. Being fifteen and living on the streets the offer was very attractive, but I was afraid for my life. Suddenly, the man said that he had a strong feeling that he shouldn’t be offering me this deal. He seemed noticeably frightened and took me back to where he’d picked me up and told me if I wanted what he was offering to meet him there the next morning. I didn’t.”

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Insights

An intriguing insight:

“I base my life on synchronicity. I get nervous when I don’t see synchronicity around me.” – Julian Winter, screenwriter

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The Three Roberts


We’re staying in the keys – Trish and three Roberts. So this morning, one of the Roberts is looking for jam or honey to spread on toast. He pulls out a jar of mango preserves called, “Robert is here.”

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Creativity and Synchronicity

This one comes from author Nancy Pickard:

“A few months ago, I was at my local library, thinking about a plot that would involve a young woman on a solo driving trip along back roads. As I was thinking about that, I felt an impulse to turn into the large-print section, and then to stop and pull out a book seemingly at random. On the cover there was a drawing of a young woman on a solo driving tour on a back road! I laughed to myself and took it as a signal to keep going with that book idea.

When I left the library, as I drove away, I was thinking of a certain phrase related to the same book that I was considering writing. I turned on the radio and that phrase was the first thing I heard coming out of the speaker. After I got over feeling startled, I interpreted it as another bit of synchronistic encouragement to go on working on that book idea.”

https://sweetmysteryoflife.blogspot.com/

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The Ceiba Tree in Key West


Sometimes rituals can create the circumstances conducive to synchronicity. When Hilary Hemingway was searching for an improvement of her family’s finances, she and her husband, writer Jeff Lindsay, went to Key West to perform a prosperity ritual involving a prominent ceiba tree near the county courthouse. The ceiba tree (or kapok) in Mayan cosmology was considered to be the tree of life that connects earth to sky, or man to the divine. They left notes with requests at the base of the tree, and poured rum around it, ‘feeding’ the muse. In a short time, Jeff’s novel, Dexter, sold to Hollywood and became the most popular television series on Showtime. Then Andy Garcia later took an interest in producing Hilary’s script on Ernest Hemingway’s final days in Cuba.

So, if it worked for Hilary and Jeff, why not us, Trish and I thought today. Since we’re spending a week on Sugarloaf Key, 17 miles north of Key West, we decided to visit that ceiba tree and prepared our own note. Since we’ve got a number of pending projects in various stages, we listed them all. We found the tree surrounded by several tourists, stood back and waited. Finally, Trish handed me the folded note and I walked around the huge tree until I noticed a little cubby hole near the base of the trunk on the south side. I slipped the note inside it, then covered it with leaves. Unfortunately, we lacked rum, but we promised the tree we’d be back with a shot or two before we left.

As we were about to leave, Trish turned to the tree and said, “Now we want some good news by tomorrow.” I thought that was asking a bit much, but didn’t say anything. We drove back to the house where we’re staying and a couple of hours later got a call from the owner, who is Trish’s literary agent. He had some news: an editor at New American Library (NAL) had just made a substantial offer on a pending proposal for an astrology book. Ka-Pow! Not 24 hours – two hours! We’re going back to the tree with some rum tomorrow.

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MEGAN’S DOG

During an elementary school Thanksgiving project,eight-year Megan showed a dog she had made from clay and announced that she was grateful for the golden retriever she was going to get. Her parents (us!) were puzzled about it. We had no plans to get a golden or any other kind of dog. After all, we had three cats. But shortly before Christmas, a family friend asked if we would adopt a golden retriever that needed a home. We said we would try out the dog for a week.The retriever, Jessie, immediately got along famously with the cats, settled n front of Rob’s desk, and found a new
home.We remained baffled by how Megan had talked about the animal as if she’d known it was coming. It was a synchronicity – specifically one of foreknowledge or precognition

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Fevered

Here’s a story from 1988 that has always fascinated me. Trish and I traveled to Venezuela, where she was born and raised, and visited the Gran Sabana, one of the most fascinating wilderness regions of the planet. I remember carrying a big clunky Radio Shack laptop computer into the jungle, and finding time to work on the re-write of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, the novel adapted from the script.

Our adventure among the soaring buttes, waterfalls and forest went by too quickly and we soon found ourselves back in Caracas. At the airport, we headed to customs where we were surrounded by guards with machine guns. Colombian drug dealers had begun using Caracas to export cocaine and the government was cracking down. The guards were particularly interested in the man in front of us. He was a tall, middle-aged Venezuelan, who wore a dark, three-piece suit and carried a briefcase. They told him to open it up. Slowly, the man unlatched the briefcase and the guards leaned forward to see what was inside. Everyone seemed really tense.

We were right behind the man and had a good view. Surprisingly, there was only one item in the briefcase, something I found quite astonishing. It was a paperback copy of one of Trish’s novels, FEVERED. Of course, the man had no idea that the author was standing right behind him…and we didn’t tell him, either.
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Here’s the highlighted link to Jim’s story in the second comment: https://rigint.blogspot.com/search?q=synchronicity

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The Girl from Petrovka

Here’s a good one offered by my friend, Dale.

Anthony Hopkins, who in researching his part for the film of George Feifer’s The Girl from Petrovka, traveled to London in search of a copy of the novel. Having failed to obtain a copy after searching a few secondhand bookstores, he was waiting on the platform of Leicester Square subway station when he noticed that a book had been left on the seat beside him. He picked it up only to discover that it was a copy of The Girl from Petrovka.

Two years later, while in the middle of filming in Vienna, Hopkins was visited on the set by Feifer. The author mentioned that he no longer had a copy of his own book. Feifer told Hopkins how he had lent his last copy to a friend who had mislaid it somewhere in London. Then Feifer added that it had been especially annoying because he had annotated that particular copy. Scarcely believing that such a coincidence could be possible, Hopkins handed Feifer the copy he had found at Leicester Square subway station. “Is this the one?” he asked, “with the notes scribbled in the margins?” It was indeed the very book Feifer’s friend had lost.

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Plum Pudding

Here’s one of my favorite crazy synchronicity stories as told by French writer M. Deschamps. As a boy in Orleans, France, he was presented with a piece of plum pudding by a guest of the family, M. de Fortgibu. Years later, Deschamps, now a young man, ordered plum pudding in a Paris restaurant, only to find that the last piece had just been taken. The waiter discretely indicated the direction of the guilty patron who, it turned out, was none other than de Fortgibu. Many years later,at a dinner party where Deschamps was again offered plum pudding, he recounted the above events concerning de Fortgibu. Finishing his tale, and still eating his plum pudding, he remarked that all that was missing was de Fortgibu. Soon the door burst open and in came de Fortgibu himself, now a disoriented old man who had gotten the wrong address, and had entered the restaurant by mistake.

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The Deeper Meaning of Things

Most of us have experienced them – odd coincidences that seem like weird little hiccups in the cosmos.They usually grab our attention. But what, exactly, do they mean?

While we were writing our outline for a book on synchronicity, we stopped at our favorite cafe for a hit of morning Joe. As we sat outside, an elderly man approached us and handed us his card. It explained that he was deaf and was selling key chains. We bought one and on the back of the card found illustrations for sign language. On the way home, following the cue from the deaf man,we talked about synchronicity as a language of signs. Then we passed the local high school, where the digital sign at the entrance was announcing a class in sign language. This sign about sign language added a deeper layer to the synchronicity.

Initially, its meaning seemed to be that we were on the right track with our concept – approaching synchronicity as a language of signs. The next day, a writer friend e-mailed a synchronicity she’d experienced while working on her current novel. She said she had invited readers of her blog to submit any synchronicities they would like to share for inclusion in the book. So we decided to start this blog, a kind of digital sign announcing that we would love to hear your stories!

Posted in sign language, signifiance of | 11 Comments