This Emil Nolde painting has nothing to do with the post. I just love the colors! +++ This synchronicity came from Nancy Atkinson, during an email exchange where she just happened to mention that her husband has great instincts. +++ One time we were visiting my brother and as we were back out of a long curving driveway, with music and air conditioning blazing, we rolled onto something that caused our car to stop. I thought it was just a rock. But my husband didn’t hit the gas for quite a long time. I looked over at him and he was just staring straight ahead and not moving. At about that time my brother and sister in law came running around the corner screaming at us to not move! My little niece was stuck under our car!! She had used one of those saucer things for playing in the snow and had slid down a hill next to the driveway and right under our car. Her head stopped our car tire! If he had hit the gas we would have killed our niece! I’ve learned to trust his instincts!
It happened outside Placerville, CA. I had even told him to “go!” I couldn’t figure out why he was still sitting there staring straight ahead. But he didn’t move – and then we saw my brother and sister in law running toward us screaming to stay put. It was so weird. I asked him what he was thinking and he said he felt he shouldn’t hit the gas, he didn’t know why. I think it was my father, who had recently passed away, whispering in his ear not to move. His little granddaughter was under the tire and he knew my brother and I could never look at each other the same way if we had killed his little girl.
We were trying to come up with a good synchro for this very American holiday, but couldn’t find anything and figured we would just post a Happy 4th and a photo of exploding fireworks.Then we ran across a fascinating AP article about a mistake that Thomas Jefferson made on page 3 of the Declaration of Independence.
Apparently Jefferson, when referring to the American public, used the word subjects, had seconds thoughts and used his hand to rub out that word while the ink was still wet and substituted citizens.
“Fenalla France, a research chemist at the Library, said her lab made the discovery last year by using hyperspectral imaging, using a high resolution digital camera that compiles a series of images to highlight layers of a document,” said the article. “Some of those invisible layers — like erased text and even fingerprints — pop into view on a computer screen.” France called the discovery “spine-tingling.”
Spine-tingling it may be, but it has the trickster’s fingerprints all over it. It’s interesting, too, that this discovery was made during this BP oil fiasco. After all, wasn’t this document our declaration of independence from the British?
On June 30, we posted Part I of a story unfolding in Australia. In part 2 of Natalie’s story, the plot thickens. This evening (June 22) we received an update from her in an email: +++ Yesterday, was my reading day at work. The night before, I hopped into the shower, and another missing girl’s name came to me. I quickly jumped out of the shower, and asked Mark to Google it while I put my pj’s on. Her name was ‘Deirdre’. Although she went missing at the same time as the other girls, her remains were found ten years later, and a person charged. That person was subsequently murdered in jail some time later. Her case is only linked to the one I am working on by timing. All three girls went missing within a 4 month period.
I did not know any more than her name , until Mark googled her story. Before bed, I centered myself. Out of the blue, a voice told me that ‘Deirdre’s’ sister would be coming for a reading tomorrow. I told Mark and he said” HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT????? Deirdre was murdered 31 years ago, why would her sister come to see you now?”
” I dunno, maybe I am completely delusional. We should get me a plan B career, if I am wrong about all of this.” I really started to doubt myself and had a very uneasy night.
On my way to work the next day, I said aloud “Why am I involved in this anyway? I am kidding myself surely! Why would these girls come to me???”
I turned on the radio, and two songs come on in a ‘double play’ that gave me an answer. The first song was called ‘Closure’ and the second was a remake of Bryan Adam’s’ Heaven’. They were number 31 in a countdown, the same number of years ago these crimes happened.
“Okay!!!” I yelled to the heavens, ‘I will do it, but only if you help me more, I can not do this alone.”
Immediately, I felt a loving presence all around me. I asked it to protect me, and be with me at work today, most especially if Deirdre’s sister happens to turn up.
SHE DID.!! She did come. OMG. She really did.I burst into tears as soon as we sat down at my table. What followed was the most beautiful reading I have ever had the honour to do.
I was taken to the light through the tunnel and spent time there with Deirdre, her Nanna and my client there. It was profoundly moving and I cannot describe it adequately. I was pretty ungrounded for the rest of the day to say the least.
As I am writing this, I still cannot believe it was true. I am in a weird head space for sure, right now, very focused on finding my original girl. Even more so after yesterday. To see Deirdre’s sister after that reading was priceless. Such a healing took place yesterday. Wow. Of course, I got straight on the phone to Mark to say I told you so!!!!
This following story came from Adele, and it was left as a comment under the June 3 post. With all the sea creatures suffering in this oil disaster, it seems appropriate to post Adele’s synchronicity about John C. Lilly, the M.D. who did so much research with dolphins. Lilly passed away in 2001, but his legacy certainly lives on. For more on this remarkable man, start here.
I have been reading all your posts and comments about the oil spill horror but not commenting myself. I agree with everyone and find all this so distressing that I cannot watch the news about it any more because I stop functioning. Was it T.S. Elliot who said, “The world will end, not with a bang but a whimper.” Well we are in a big horror of a whimper.
I did want to comment about John Lilly. I read his book years ago, “The Center of the Cyclone.” Was that the one where he told about his dolphin experiences? I have carted hundreds of books back and forth across the country and during my recent move just over a year ago, I could not afford to do this any more and had to give most of my books away. John Lilly’s book was one that I wish I had now. Perhaps just as well since I can’t keep up with my To Do list these days.
I remember the part where Lilly told about his relationship with a special female dolphin. At some point he felt guilty about keeping the dolphins in confinement and decided to let them go free. When he did, his special dolphin friend committed suicide in sadness.
Thinking about John Lilly caused me to remember a little dream synchronicity I had about him. It was in the early 1970’s. One of his his books had just come out and he was doing a lecture tour. I attended one of his talks at Wainwright House in Rye New York. I had no idea what John Lilly looked like and had not yet read his book. The night before the lecture I dreamed I went to the lecture, saw him and noted that he was wearing a jumpsuit instead of the usual suit or sport’s coat of the time. I thought that very odd. Only auto mechanics wore jumpsuits. And I tried to figure out the symbolism of the jumpsuit.
When I got to the lecture, Lilly looked just like he did in the dream and he was wearing a jumpsuit. I’ve never seen a man, before or since, who wore a jumpsuit as his clothing of choice. I’d like to find that dream to see what other points there may have been to it.
For Carl Jung, spirit contact fell under the larger umbrella of synchronicity. Jung had several experiences himself with spirits, which he recounts in his autobiography. I’ve always wondered, though, what he would think of the ghost and the straight pins.
During my (Trish) last year in college, I lived in a small apartment on the third floor of a spavined building in Utica, New York. My roommate, Linda, and I, shared our cramped living space with a tabby cat. Early in the school year, Linda’s grandmother passed away. One day not long afterward, Linda’s mother found a straight pin on the grandmother’s tombstone. A few days later, our tabby, Tigger, was about to jump into a chair where I was reading when she suddenly did a 180 in midair and tore into the bedroom. Linda and I just looked at each other, wondering what that was about.
The next morning, I found straight pins scattered around the living room – a pin stuck in a couch cushion, pins laying on the rug, a couple more straight pins on the kitchen table. This began to happen consistently. When Linda mentioned it to her mother, she sort of laughed and said it was Linda’s grandmother. “Nana G loved to sew. I’ve been finding straight pins all over the house, even underlining passages in the bible.”
I didn’t have any problem believing in ghosts and was certain that Tigger had seen Nana G the night she did that 180, but straight pins?How did a ghost manipulate physical matter, even matter as small as a straight pin? But one weekend when we visited Linda’s parents, her mother showed up the straight pins underlining passages in the bible.
“How does Nana G do that?” I asked Linda’s mom. “I have no idea,” she replied. “But isn’t it amazing?”
The straight pin phenomenon continued consistently for several months, then gradually stopped. About ten years later, I was visiting St. Augustine with Linda and her mother. We were in that fort featured in the photo, Castillo de San Marcos. The Spanish began construction on this fort in 1672 to protect the city. It’s the only existing 17th century fort in North America. This is what it looks like inside:
Within its empty hallways, our footsteps echoed. The whisper of the past was everywhere. But everything was bare – the thick walls, the well-worn floors, not even a piece of trash in sight. So the three of us were moving through the interior, marveling at how cool it was despite the summer heat outside. I happened to look down and stopped, incredulous, staring at a single straight pin.
I picked it up and showed it to Linda’s mother. “What’re the odds of finding a straight pin in this place?” I asked.
Her mom smiled. “I’ve been feeling Nana G around.”
“Looks like she wanted to tour the place with us,” Linda said.
“So is this an apport?” I asked.
Neither of them had an answer. But to this day, an apport – the paranormal transference of an object from one place to another – seems to be the best explanation.
So here it is, the first hurricane of the season, Alex, making landfall as a cat 2 storm, spreading tar balls and oil across the gulf. We should be grateful that it isn’t a cat 5 hitting right smack where the gusher of oil continues to spew on day 72.
For a roundup of news on the continuing catastrophe in the gulf, click here. There are a number of articles. Countdown ran a video this evening on a disturbing video about what’s really happening in the gulf. It’struly heartbreaking. The man who took the video from a small plane compared the oil slicks he saw to deep bruises on the skin of the ocean and within its organs.Here’s his report. And the video:
One of the chapters in our new proposal is on spirit contact. So while we were working on it, we suddenly ran across several synchronicities about that very topic. This story is from Natalie, who wrote about it on her blog. It’s a zinger.
The Escher lithograph, Magic Mirror, is how I see the kind of work Natalie is doing.
Thirty-one years ago in Australia, over a four month period, three girls went missing. One of them Natalie talks about in this story is Deirdre. The other one we’ll call Anne. Let Natalie tell it from here. +++
For many weeks, I was repeatedly awakened in the middle of the night with a song playing in my mind. The song is a recent release, called Mr. Mysterious. (Click the youtube video below to hear the song).
Even more unnerving was when I felt a coldness on my right side, something repeatedly touching my right arm, and then a tugging on my left eyebrow hairs.
This was scaring the life out of me, as there was an ominous ‘feel’ to these visits.
Seventeen days ago, a girl started talking in my ear. No problem there, except she was dead.
She has been missing for 31 years. I knew nothing about this until she started talking to me two weeks ago. She is presumed dead, though no body has ever been recovered.
At first, I thought my over active imagination was making up the scenario she was showing me. She gave me a place name and I had never heard of it. A google search revealed that not only does the place exist, it matched the scenes she showed me 5 a.m. the other morning.
While she was talking to me, she gave me names, family scenes, pictures of siblings, her middle name (which the public wasn’t aware of). She said that other girls were with her in spirit. I think have found one of the other girls on the net, and she looks just like the image I was shown by the first girl.
By a series of really strange ‘synchronicities’, almost all the information she gave me has been verified by an aquaintance of her parents. The meeting of the aquaintance was synchronisitic also. What are the chances of meeting a person who has solid knowledge of a spirit who ‘just happens’ to start talking to me at 5 in the morning, about a case that is so cold it is freezing.
Also, another family friend of this girl came into the shop on my very first day there, and took my business card.
To top this all off, last Monday, Mark and I went to look for The Seven Secrets Of Synchronicity at a large book store in the city. They didn’t have it yet, but I felt drawn to stand near the New Age section and just get a vibe for another book to read. I was immediately pulled to the very bottom shelf, and in particular to a new book called ‘Never Alone’. I had been feeling very alone, as I am so often misunderstood, and was feeling very inward anyway, what with all this stuff going on. The book was written by an Australian medium of note Debbie Malone, who just happened to be a medium helping police find missing people. The first three chapters were about the perpetrator I had been shown. OMG!!!
To make it worse, he wasn’t acting alone, and he was invoved in Satanic rituals which involved the torture of animals and humans. He was also tuning in to the medium and somehow they found out where she lived and they attempted to harm her as well. Along with all that, there were facts about the case that my spirit girl had given me two weeks earlier, suggesting that she was taken by these monsters.
A few days later while researching on the net,I found out that one of the main suspects was a police officer who blew his own head off during the investigation. One of the victim’s leather jacket was found at his house. He was the head honcho as reported by the medium, but the AFP wouldn’t look into her claims at the time of the investigation. The article on the net that I found this week, cited his invovement and the police coverup in 1993, was written by a guy who was also subsequently murdered.
To say I am spooked is an understatement.
The ‘coincidences’ are quite staggering to me, but still I can’t do anything about the information I have received so far as:
1. I don’t want to hurt her parents unecessarily if I have my wires crossed…………It is their child after all.
2. I don’t know how to approach the police.
3. I am waiting for the spirit to bring her mother to me, if it is indeed her (the missing girl) that I am talking to. I arranged for two signs from the missing girl, one came the very next day, one is yet to happen.
4. I am scared witless.
5. What if I am wrong?? The implications of this are enormous to the people I have involved so far.
6. What if I am right?? The implications of this are enormous to everyone.
I have been in ‘lock down’ since this started happening, as I wanted to be as centered as possible, in order to receive her communications. I needed to make sure that I wasn’t hallucinating. I felt also that all other regular activities were very trivial compared to the enormity of this situation.
I cannot explain the amount of synchronicity that I live with, it is truly remarkable. STILL, I can’t quite grasp that I may be onto something here. There has only been one more message from the missing girl, and that was to tell me that Mark was about to come home with a bunch of flowers. In less than 5 minutes, he was home with a bunch of apricot and cream carnations.
He hadn’t bought me flowers for months.
Mark and I went for a drive to the area that I think she is in, and the emotions were all over the place. We are going back later this week when we can get a babysitter. It is rugged terrain. I am doing this for her mother, the poor lady is repeatedly in the newspapers still pleading for someone to come forward. She is a tortured woman. I have been told by two other mediums that I will find her, I hope I do.
I am now waiting for her to send her mother to me for a reading, I can do nothing more until that happens. Wish me luck and lots of light, I am gonna need it.
Stay tuned for part 2. +++ To hear the lyrics of Mr. Mysterious, click below.
Jung placed psychic phenomena under the larger umbrella of synchronicity. Of the many types of psi that exist, mediumship is perhaps one of the most mysterious.
Author Jane Roberts channeled Seth, who described himself as a “personality essence no longer focused in physical existence.” Author Esther Hicks channels a consortium of souls known as Abraham. The TV show The Medium popularized the concept, but we don’t need Patricia Arquette for this story. It comes from Connie Cannon, who we wrote about in Planetary Empaths. +++
I’ve been doing clairvoyant readings all my life, and am now elderly. A middle-aged client from Germany, whom I shall call Jan, made an appointment to see me. I need to clarify that I do not allow my clients to give me any information whatsoever prior to the reading. Only their first name. The source of the information that comes through me is disembodied entities….I am a medium. It is a rule of mine to never, ever give death predictions, under any circumstances. I am, however, a voice for spirit, and have learned to trust their judgment.
On the day of her appointment, after I moved into an altered state, my other worldly helpers told me to tell Jan that she was coming to the light at the end of a very long, hard tunnel, and that from that point her life would improve beyond her wildest imagination. They went on to tell me that her husband, (whom I learned later was middle-aged and healthy), would sustain a massive stroke in late May, be placed in a full-care nursing home,and that by the end of June he would make his transition to the other side.
They went on to say that her burdens would be lifted afterwards. I silently argued with my helpers, because it was a prediction of death. But they instructed me clearly, “TELL HER NOW!” So, I told her exactly what they had said. And, we taped the session.
That night, Jan phoned me. She told me that she was locked into a horrific marriage with a brutal husband from which there was no escape, and that she had purchased a gun and had planned to take herself out that very afternoon. But after her session with me, she felt as if she had reason to go on, and she disposed of the gun.. This was, by the way, in April. I heard no more from Jan until the first week in July.
She came by my house that week and told me that her husband John had sustained a massive, debilitating stroke in May; he had been placed in a local full-care nursing home, and at 11:15pm on June 30th, he had expired. 45 minutes prior to the end of June. I have all of this documented.
In this instance, a revelation of the husband’s departure was obviously deemed necessary, to prevent Jan from ending her own life. She had had all she was able to tolerate, evidently. Spirit knew that, but I did not. I hear from her occasionally. She owns a small German restaurant, lives in a wonderful retirement community, and has a genuinely happy life.
Travel, whether it’s far flung or local, is usually a fertile environment for synchronicity. Sometimes the synchros are obvious. But other times you have to dig beneath the surface and view your environment with a new perspective, new eyes. It’s like microscopic vision. A flash of color seizes your attention or a blur of movement explodes in your peripheral vision. To catch the significance, you have to adjust your perspective.
This photo is of a desert rose. It was in a potted plant on the porch of the cottage in Aruba where we stayed. Although it was outside, it wasn’t in a spot where rain might reach it. On the day we arrived, it wasn’t blooming. It seemed to be held back, in escrow, waiting for the right time, the right moment, waiting for…well,water. So I watered it. Daily. Every morning, I poured a mug of water into the pot and then went around to the other plants on the porch and in the yard, hoping the water would salvage the little shoots, the promises of color and life.
On our third day, a bloom on the desert rose finally opened. The opening seemed to emit a signal – an iguana and a luminous blue desert lizard dropped by for a visit.I felt a kind of silly glee about it and called Rob, Megan, and Avery over for a look. “It’s blooming,” I exclaimed.
At that point, I was trying to figure out certain elements in my novel, the kind of brainstorming you do in the privacy of your own head. If I do XYZ, then A will happen. In other words, I was looking at plot details. That night I took the color of the desert rose into sleep, into my dreams. I dreamed of rose-colored rivers, rose-colored mountains, rose-colored deserts.
The next morning, while shopping at Ting Wei grocery store, I noticed this color everywhere – in the bins of frozen fish,in the tints of the wines, in the colors of shampoos. When I returned to the cottage, I was struck by the color of the hammock on our cottage porch, so like the color of the desert rose.
I think this was the point where I realized that my plot was fine. What I needed was more local color for the Aruba scenes, more of what made the island unique and perfect for my characters.
Is it a synchro? Absolutely. What began with the blooming of a desert rose resulted in a creative realization of what was lacking in my novel.
