An eye-opening synchro

Here’s Nicholas Carroll’s winning entry from his days on the U.S. Navy ship anchored near Naples. The casual reader will find it interesting, if not astonishing. But to Nicholas it was a life-changing event in that in the aftermath he shifted his view of reality from a rational, materialistic perspective to being more open to the possibility that forces exist in the universe that are outside the everyday world of cause and effect.
We realized that this story must be one of the winners when we searched Google for ‘Naples, Italy images’ and immediately spotted among thumbnails of a dozen photos an image of an American navy ship anchored off Naples. That, in itself, is an illustration of an illustration of synchronicity!
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I was a young man in the Navy, stationed in Sardinia when I had my most profound coincidence. It began in January 1993 when I woke up with one of my eyes bloodshot red. It wouldn’t go away after a couple days. A month passed with my eye still bloodshot red. So I saw the doctor assigned to my squadron about it. He didn’t know what was wrong with my eye and recommended that I see an eye specialist at the U.S. Naval hospital in Naples.
Because the USS Orion was set to be decommissioned, with the USS Simon Lake sailing from Holy Loch, Scotland to replace it in La Maddalena, Sardinia, we had a lot of work to do in getting ready for the cross-decking (transferring everything from our office to the other ship). Besides, the Yeoman I worked for kept teasing me that going to Naples would be seen as a boondoggle and wouldn’t look good on my record. So, I kept resisting. The squadron doctor looked at my eye again and was alarmed when he saw some cells break apart. He didn’t know what it meant and he insisted that I had to go to Naples if I cared about my eye. He raised the spectre of possible blindness if I didn’t get it treated.
For not, I finally relented and got orders. I flew to the airport in Rome and had to rush to catch the last train to Naples before a strike went into effect. This was a common occurrence in socialist Italy. Unions would go on strikes all the time, shutting down the transportation and inconveniencing travel for everyone who didn’t have a private automobile…just for the hell of it. I did make the train, though. Otherwise I would’ve been stuck in Rome for however long the strike lasted (anywhere from 24 to 48 hours).
When I arrived at the Naval Hospital in Naples in the evening, a female officer on duty checked me in and set up an appointment with the eye specialist the next day. She even made sure I got a meal, bringing it to me like a concerned mother. I was impressed by her maternal instinct (it is unusual for an officer to serve an enlisted person, which is what she was doing by delivering a tray of food at the closed hospital dining facility).

I checked into the barracks at Capodichino (one of the sites that the U.S. Navy leases from the Italian government in the Naples metropolitan area). The next day, I went to my eye appointment at the Naples Hospital. The doctor looked at my eye and said that he had never seen anything like that before. He gave me some kind of ointment to put on my eye each night. When the appointment was finished, I boarded the shuttle bus to take me back to Capodichino barracks.

At the bottom of the hill, the bus came to a jerky stop. I stared out the window and saw two guys in suits on bicycles. One waved nervously to the bus driver. The bus drove and as we passed the guys on bicycles, I was shocked to see that one of the guys on the bicycle looked like my old friend from 7th grade, John Adams. He never kept in touch after I moved away from Nebraska in 1985, but I always remembered him. He was a Mormon and these two guys on bicycles were definitely Mormon missionaries. Back at the barracks, I looked up information about the Mormon church. I learned that one of the Navy Chaplains on the base was a Mormon, so I called him and told him about that coincidence in coming across this possible old friend of mine. He investigated for me and got back with me.

What I learned was that the missionary was indeed John Adams, but he was not assigned to a mission in the Naples area. He was in a Rome mission and I was able to get the address. After I received the confirmation of my hunches, I was shocked by the meaning of it all. I had not seen or heard from this guy in eight years. What was the likelihood that his path and my path would intersect on the road leading up to the U.S. Naval hospital in Naples, Italy in an afternoon in the spring of 1993?

As the Navy Chaplain told me, Elder Adams had to come to the American hospital to get new contact lenses. So, we both had an eye problem. And this chance meeting could have been missed if I had taken a later bus that day, or if I had gone to Naples weeks earlier as my squadron doctor recommended. It was a coincidence that depended on both of us being at that exact spot at that exact time and day. It also required that I had the ability to recognize an old friend (for John had no way of seeing who was on the bus or might not even remember me).

This coincidence opened the way for a new understanding. It was the one event I needed to shatter the logic-based view of atheism forever. I know that atheists and agnostics dismiss coincidences as “just a coincidence” but when I think about how improbable that situation was, I knew that there was an unseen force in our world that works in a mysterious way that defies any sense of logic or mathematical probabilities.

When I was released from the doctor’s care, I dealt with another of the Navy’s bureaucracy…getting back to my command in La Maddalena. I had to wait on a MAC flight, with no guarantees that I would get on a specific flight. MAC flights were twice a week, if I remember correctly. I kept my command up to date on my status. The Yeoman I worked for kept referring to my stay in Naples as a boondoggle, which annoyed me. The Navy was keeping me in Naples. True, I took advantage of being in Naples by shopping in the Navy Exchange and buying the latest paperback novels in the Stars and Stripes Bookstore (which La Maddalena did not have) and eating at Wendy’s (no American fast food restaurants in La Madd either).

But I decided that rather than wait for a MAC flight, I would return on my own dime and get reimbursed. Talk about initiative! The Navy was giving me an extended “vacation” in Naples by delaying my MAC flight spot, but I used my own travel abilities to get back to my command.

In Rome, I stopped by the Mormon mission office to talk with John Adams, who didn’t remember me as much as I remembered him. Everyone was curious about this coincidence story and I got to see how a mission office operated. They even gave me an Italian language Book of Mormon. Normally, American missionaries aren’t permitted to use a military hospital, but since Adams was an Air Force dependent, he had an I.D. card that allowed him use of the hospital. Back in the seventh grade, my circle of friends were all sons of Air Force personnel, since our junior high school was near Offutt Air Force Base.

After the short visit, I made my way to Civitavecchia to catch the overnight ferry to Olbia, Sardinia. The next day, I caught the bus from Olbia to La Maddalena, and my trip was completed. Did I receive thanks from my Yeoman supervisor? Hell, no. He was a complete dick. He thought the whole thing was a scam to get a free vacation to Naples, even though I had medical documentation. I think in retrospect that he was jealous that I got to go to Naples while he had to work for two of us. Besides, it seemed like the universe conspired a way to get me to that place of having an amazing coincidence.

What does that coincidence mean? To be honest, even eighteen years later, I still haven’t a clue to the meaning. I did get a letter or two from John Adams after our meeting, but no friendship sustained itself, so that’s another dead end. The best answer I could come up with is that this coincidence was a wake up call. The kind that God knew I needed to experience for proof of the spiritual force that operates in our world. It was the coincidence that began a series of coincidences.

My eye returned to normal. I think my red eye lasted for three or four months. I still don’t know what was wrong with it. Its one of those spiritual mysteries, I suppose, whose sole purpose was to get me to Naples to be in the precise location to experience that coincidental meeting. I consider the coincidence in Naples to be the biggest one of my life.

Posted in contest winners | 17 Comments

The 27 Club

Singer Amy Winehouse, found dead in her London apartment, now joins the ranks of Kurt Corbain, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison and Brian Jones – musicians who all died at the age of 27.


Kurt Corbain

 

 

Janis joplin

Jimi Hendrix

 

Jim Morrison

 

We wrote about The 27 Club in 7 Secrets, in the chapter on clusters, and here  on the blog. Charles R. Cross, who wrote biographies of both Cobain and Hendrix, wrote that the number of musicians who die at this age is “truly remarkable by any standard.”  Brian Jones and Jim Morrison actually died on the same date two years apart.

There’s quite a lot of information about this club on the internet. One website lists 34 musicians who died at the age of 27, dating back as far as 1892.

This website includes a partial list of names with dates, causes of death, and “claim to notability.”  And contrary to what you might assume based on the deaths of the more prominent members of this club, drug overdoses aren’t always the cause:

Roger Lee Durham, with Bloodstone, died in 1973 when he fell off a horse.

Arlester Christian 3/13/71 Shot. Vocalist of Dyke & the Blazers, was shot in 1971.

Linda Jones, an R&B singer, died while in a diabetic coma in 1972.

Alexander Bashlachev, a  Russian poet, rock musician and songwriter, committed suicide in 1988 by “jumping.”

So what’s the deeper message with The 27 Club?

 

Posted in 27 | 14 Comments

A Hometown Synchro


Tracy Wilhelm of British Columbia is our first winner of  our Golden Scarab Synchro award. She wins The Synchronicity Journal and the trade paperback edition of The 7 Secrets of Synchronicity. She replied within an hour of the contest opening and offered the following story. We liked it!

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“I was on a working vacation in San Diego this past February, and brought The 7 Secrets of Synchronicity with me to read while I was there. On the Saturday before we were to fly home, I had just finished the first chapter, and had gotten to the part where it says to ask a question and by the end of the book, you would have your answer.

“Well, I asked my question but I put it out to the Universe that I wanted my answer by the end of my trip. I was contemplating moving back to the small town where I grew up, but still wasn’t sold on the idea. My question was whether I should indeed move there or not.

“The following day, we were headed up the Pacific Coast Hwy to get to LA to catch our flight. We stopped at a McDonalds along the way, and while we were there, I noticed a woman who I had seen at the San Diego Zoo two days prior. We traveled on to LA, and the next day went to the airport to catch our flight. Again, I noticed this same woman at the airport, and she was even on our flight.

“We had a stop-over once back in Canada and had to claim our luggage and then head to our next gate. This woman was standing near us and mentioned that she had seen us the previous day at the McDonalds. We got talking about where we were each headed, and she said she was from a town very close to where I grew up. I told her that I had grown up in this particular small town, and she responded that she was born there. I asked her what her last name was, and it turned out that she is the cousin of one of my closest friends from that small town.

“It wasn’t until I was home unpacking and retelling the story to my kids, that it clicked. I stopped in my tracks and went  ‘Aahhh, now I get it! That was my answer! I’m moving back.” What are the odds of seeing the same woman three times in three different locations, in California… in a matter of three days. (And 3 is my number). Love love love it!”

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Tracy followed up the story with this comment: “Oh and as a side note… I am now back living in that small town. I’ve been here just over a month now. =)”

Great story. Winner #1.

Posted in contest winners, moves | 5 Comments

Winning Synchro tales coming up

Tomorrow we will begin posting the winning entries  in the Golden Scarab Synchro Contest.  We’ve got some good ones. Three of the five winners are posting synchros here for the first time.

Here are the winners in the order that their stories will appear.

Tracy Wilhelm of British Columbia –  7-23

Nicholas Carroll of Portland, Oregon – 7-24

Jane Clifford of Wales 7-25

Andrew Hicks of Beaverton, Oregon  7-26

E. Miles 7-27

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Meanwhile, here’s some sage advice for your day….ENJOY!

If you can start the day without caffeine…

if you can always be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains…

if you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles…

if you can eat the same food everyday and be grateful for it…

if you can understand when your loved ones are too busy to give you any time…

if you can take criticism and blame without resentment…

if you can conquer tension without medical help…

if you can relax without alcohol…

if you can sleep without the aid of drugs…                                                                                                                                                                      …then you are probably the family dog.

Thanks to Doc Savvy for this one.

 

 

Posted in contest winners | 9 Comments

Wayseers

I found this on Nancy Atkinson’s blog.  It’s powerful. We need more of this kind of thinking in the 21st century. Change starts with just one person, but it’s sure great to see this kind of momentum.

Posted in Uncategorized | 10 Comments

PS Synchro with Midnight in Paris

 

This synchro comes from Adele Aldridge, whose I Ching sites is one of my favorites.It’s about what she experienced as soon as Midnight in Paris ended. I think Woody Allen would appreciate it!

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I saw “Midnight in Paris” yesterday afternoon and experienced a sweet little synchro that I thought you two would appreciate, knowing you had seen the movie and you wouldn’t say if I told you the story, “So . . ?”

I went to a matinee at 3:00 p.m. It was hot and muggy here in Princeton so getting into the dark cool theater felt good.  Then there was that magnificent transport to beautiful scenes of Paris and the wonderful conversations and glimpses of some of my favorite characters: Picasso, Gertrude Stein, Cole Porter, Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald, Hemingway . . . etc. You saw it so you know what I’m talking about.

I liked this Woody Allen the best of his movies because of the beauty of the scenes photographically as well as his dialogue and you know, all the rest. Anyway, the movie had that wonderful effect of forgetting where I was during that time – just what a good movie does. As you recall the movie ends with the Woody Allen substitute character and the beautiful Parisian young woman walking off into the rain, not having a care in the world, just enjoying each other and the rain.

When the movie ended and we all approached the front doors of the theater – a big rain storm blew up. It was just as if we had carried the movie with us. All the people who had been inside stood under the over hang of the theater, not daring to jump into the rain as no one was prepared with an umbrella. And the street was suddenly flooded.

What I loved was that we all just stood and smiled at each other and even laughed. We wordlessly experienced the synchronicity of that sudden rain in front of us just as we had left it in the movie. Usually one would think that being caught like this that people would be grumbling and saying things like, “Oh damn! Now what am I going to do?”

Instead, we all stood and waited and watched the rain and kept on smiling. A group of young teenage girls in the group ran into the street, holding out their arms, welcoming the rain, enjoying getting wet. No grownup scolded them. They appeared to be acting out the feeling the movie left us with.

I had parked my car about half a mile away so I stood there for about 15 minutes just waiting for this movie to move on to a different scene. And it did. I loved the movie and also loved that group synchro we all shared. I could tell that every person standing there, waiting in the rain, got it about the synchro, as we continued magically living in the movie.

I dare not tell this story to any one else. You had to have seen the movie and you have to get it about synchros. I don’t recall ever having one occur in a group before.

Posted in movies, Woody Allen | 14 Comments

The Dark Trickster and a Whistleblower Synchro?

Many global stories often have embedded synchronicities, so let’s return to the scandal swirling around the now defunct News of the World and the perhaps soon to be defunct Rupert Murdoch empire. That empire, of course, includes the most divisive news organization in the U.S.:

On Monday, July 18, 2011, a man named Sean Hoare was found dead in his apartment. He was the first (and former) News of the World reporter to allege that Andy Coulson, the former editor- in- chief of the paper, was aware of phone hacking by his staff and actually encouraged it. Coulson, by the way, went on to become press chief to British Prime Minister David Cameron.

According to The Guardian, “Hoare first made his claims in a New York Times investigation into the phone-hacking allegations at the News of the World. He told the newspaper that not only did Coulson know of the hack, but he also actively encouraged his staff to intercept the calls of celebrities in the pursuit of exclusives.” The Times  investigation took place last year.

Last week, Hoare told the NYT that reporters at News of the World had paid off British police in exchange for using law enforcement technology to locate people using their mobile phones. This technique, known as pinging, measures the distance between a cell phone and the cell towers  to pinpoint the cell user’s location.

Hoarse was apparently fired from News of the World for drug and alcohol problems and had been in rehab. “But that’s irrelevant,” he told the NYT. “There’s more to come. This is not going away.”

He was certainly right about that. Unfortunately, Hoare is the one who went away. The Hertfordshire Constabulary said his “death is currently being treated as unexplained, but not thought to be suspicious.”

Really? If that’s true, then his death, at this precise juncture in time/events, is one whopper of a synchronicity.

This scandal has now jumped the Atlantic, with the members of Congress calling for an investigation into whether people in Murdoch’s empire tried to hack into the phones of families who lost loved ones on 9-11. The FBI is investigating. If it’s proven to be true, then Murdoch’s empire is going the way of Darth Vader’s.

So far, a whole bunch of people have resigned, including the publisher of the Wall Street Journal, who has worked with Murdoch for 50 years; Rebekah Brooks,  chief executive of News International (who was arrested and interrogated); the London police commissioner. And now the whistleblower who triggered this entire investigation turns up dead.

If he wasn’t killed and died of natural causes, then the timing certainly points to the work of the dark trickster.

 

Posted in Fox News, Murdoch, politics | 17 Comments

The Cloud Forest

 

We had one week to explore Costa Rica. We chose two spots – the Arenal Volcano region, which we wrote about here and Monteverde, known as The Cloud Forest. We wanted to see the Pacific coast and the southern part of the country, but when you travel by car through this country, you spend at least a day getting from one place to another. The roads in many places are bad, there’s just no way around that one. But even when the roads are bad, the scenery is so dramatic, so breathtaking,  your mind censors the potholes.

So on the morning of June 8, we set out in our little 4X4, headed for Monteverde and Arco Iris Lodge in Santa Elena. Just as we were leaving the property of the Arenal Lodge, the guard at the gate pointed upward. A pair of howler monkeys were bidding us farewell!  Well, the wave probably wasn’t for us, but I took this to be a positive omen for our journey.

The trip was supposed to take four hours, an ascent into the mountains to around 5,900 feet, higher than Denver, Colorado. The first hour or so, the road was fine – paved, with the usual dangerous bridge alert on our GPS.  At one point, Megan asked about the place we were going to be staying, Arco Iris. “What’s it like, Mom?”

“No clue,” I replied. “Got it off the internet.”

“Hmm,” she murmured. “Usually when you do that, the second place isn’t as cool as the first.”

Good point. Arenal Lodge would be tough to beat.

In some little village where we got coffee, the good road ended and the potholes began and the road was never again paved. But along the way, we met a baby goat, gasped at precipitous drops on one side of the narrow road, and could still pick up email on our cells.  Yes, I confess, this was more important for me than for Rob and was one of the criteria I used for lodging. How’s your Internet? I wish I could be more like Mike Perry, who travels to far flung spots with his wife and doesn’t even take a cell phone or laptop with him. But that’s not part of my script in this lifetime.

Finally, we reached the outskirts of…well, something. It looked like civilization, but the GPS was acting weird and we weren’t sure. We were supposed  to drive through a school soccer field. We were  in a town and were supposed to go down a hill and turn into what looked like an alley.  But suddenly, we were there.

The Arco Iris Lodge – the Rainbow Lodge – is tucked away on a hill off a well-traveled road in the village of Santa Elena.  Everything in town is within walking distance.But as we drove up the steep hill to the property, it was immediately obvious we were  in another world. Two friendly dogs and a cat greeted us. The man at the front desk spoke perfect English and took us over to cabin 1. Two bedrooms, one bath, a living room with TV, a small fridge for snacks, and yes, Internet!

The wide front porch overlooked the grounds and every afternoon, the fog rolled in and I felt as if I were walking into   scene from my novel, Esperanza. The first photo shows just how thick the fog gets. This is where we saw Capuchin monkeys zipping through a clutch of trees. We discovered a trail up through the property that led into an orchard of fruit trees, a small coffee plantation,  a place for the chickens that lay the eggs that were served for breakfast.

And here, in a magical moment that startled all of us, we encountered a white horse in a forest. A day later, we encountered two white horses in this forest, near a stream, and in my mind, they immediately became white unicorns, here but not here. When one of them charged Megan, we leaped back into the trees and they galloped past us, up a steep incline.

Santa Elena is a vibrant little town. Incredible restaurants, including one that is appropriately named Treetop, because a giant ceiba tree grows through the middle of it. People from all over the world come here for the ziplining. Unlike Arenal Lodge, where the guided hiking and horseback riding are free, nearly every  activity in this area costs something. That’s because most of the land is privately owned and is a preserved wilderness.

One day we paid a small fee for a guided tour through the rain forest and saw the largest and grossest spider I have ever seen – a tarantula that lived in the hollow of a tree. When the guide stomped on the ground near its tree, this sucker scampered out, and it was the size of a man’s fist. Atavistic. A throwback to some more primitive time. We also saw a pair of tremendous owls, the size of a barn, it seemed, perched together on a branch. “They mate for life,” the guide said. “Where there is one, there are always two.”

Every guide we encountered in Monteverde was an amateur biologist. Every waiter was a connoisseur of foods or wines, coffee or desserts. Every hotel clerk gave a little extra in time and knowledge. In the local market, every fruit and vegetable we saw was huge, excessive in size,  and prices were reasonable. Standing in line at the register, Rob noticed a woman wearing a black Namaste t-shirt and said, “My wife has one of those.”

It turned out that she and her husband were American expats who owned and operated a yoga studio in town, and that afternoon Rob  did some yoga in their studio while Megan and I shopped.  This was the town where Megan had the opportunity to head out for fun and exploration with  some girls her age from Australia who she’d met while we ziplined. This was the magical place where the sound of rain on rooftops whisks you back to your childhood.

I found that Costa Rica is my little paradise – and not just for the obvious environmental delights. You won’t find a single nuclear plant here. Electricity is generated through wind, solar, steam, hydro. They have no army, no death penalty. They welcome Americans. They respect and preserve the resources they have. The government is stable. And well, then there’s the odd animal life, like Stephanie, the macaw, and her ilk,  or the strange encounters in the woods with the unicorns.

Magic is the key to Costa Rica.

Inside the treetop restaurant

 

Posted in Costa Rica | 10 Comments

Synchro about synchros

Diane Athill

One recent morning I pointed out an article to Trish that had come up on our Google alert for synchronicity . It began with a story of a novelist who had gotten an idea for a short story from a synchronicity. Since we were in the midst of preparing a proposal for a book on synchronicity and creativity, the story had caught my attention. In fact, finding it was a synchronicity…and then that synchronicity compounded.

Even though the Google alerts come to us daily, I rarely look at them anymore because so many of them have nothing to do with synchronicity – as we perceive it. The alert merely catches the word, which is often confused with synchronize, as in ‘let’s synchronize our watches.’ Also, an astonishing number of them refer to the Police album, Synchronicity, dating back to the ’80s.

In the story by Mark Vernon, which first appeared in The Guardian, novelist Diane Athill was walking her dog early one morning when a car slowed down and the driver, a stranger, asked if he could buy her a cup of coffee. The man looked very much like a lost old friend, who she recalled would have no problem approaching strangers in a similar fashion. The coincidence left her feeling ‘energized and strange’ and led to the creation of a short story.

The article goes on at some length to describe synchronicity and Carl Jung’s relationship with physicst Wolfgang Pauli. It’s well written and worth reading.

When Trish read the article, she mentioned that the author believed that meaningful coincidences were a rare occurrence. She disagreed with that assessment and noted that when you’re aware of synchronicities, they actually occur quite often. A neighbor who read The 7 Secrets of Synchronicity recently mentioned that she never thought about meaningful coincidence until reading the book, and now they happen all the time to her. Either the heightened awareness allows us to catch them before they pass away or that awareness causes them to occur more frequently.

But our synchronicity about synchronicity doesn’t stop there. Trish had no sooner made the comment when another Google alert came in. I opened it and found an article from a newspaper in British Columbia that had eerie similarities to the one I’d just read. While both articles give a similar definition of synchronicity near the beginning, amazingly the second article was about a man who encounters a stranger who starts a conversation and asks if he could buy him a cup of coffee!  Whoa! (I felt like I was reading a Steig Larrson novel with everyone talking about drinking coffee – as I was doing while reading these articles.)

When I told Trish about the similarities between the two articles about synchronicities, she first looked to cause and effect, suggesting that the second one was a take-off of the first. But that’s really unlikely since both authors were citing stories told to them by someone else.

It’s like Trish said, when you’re aware of synchros, they keep popping up.

If we weren’t sponsoring the Golden Scarab Synchro, I might enter that one! We’re still accepting stories until Friday, then we’ll start posting the five winning entries.

Posted in Uncategorized | 6 Comments

The Singing Bowl and Life

 

 

Back in December, I wanted to find some special Christmas gift for Rob and after seeing a Tibetan singing bowl on Butternut squash’s website – aka Jeri Gerard – I emailed her. Then we spoke by phone. She wanted to find exactly the right bowl for him and asked me some questions about Rob – how he looked, his interests and so on. We agreed on a price and a week later, Butternut had tested dozens of bowls and found what she felt was the perfect singing bowl for him.

She only sells the genuine McCoy, bowls once owned by Tibetan monks who used the bowls for everything – for eating, begging, for the tone they produced.  I knew the bowl she had selected would be the real deal because once a year or so, Jeri travels to Nepal to buy jewelry from the local people that she sells on her website and at shows.  She also gets involved in the lives of these people, bringing supplies and books for the schools, meeting and living among the people. She recently started raising money for a school library in Nepal and reports that construction on the library has begun. She walks her talk.

Rob uses this bowl in his meditation classes, a particular tone to end each class, and every time, the tone is different and somehow fits the texture of that class.

A few days ago, eight  months after I purchased the bowl, I received an intriguing email from Butternut. She had come across something in a book on singing bowls that she thought we might find of interest. The book: Singing Bowls: A Practical Handbook of Instruction and Use by Eva Rudy Jansen.

The quote:

Sound creates and sound arranges. There is a third aspect which is just as important for understanding singing bowls and why they are increasingly being used therapeutically.

This aspect relates to the tendency of objects which make almost identical movements, to move completely synchronistically.  Christian Huygens, the 17th century Dutch scientist, noticed that when two pendulums were placed next to each other, they eventually started to swing in the same tempo.  Similarly, after a while, two wave movements which are almost but not quite the same, change and become increasingly similar until they are exactly the same.

This is called ‘the collective arrangement of phases’ or synchronization.  Women are familiar with this phenomenon in their menstrual cycle.  Friends or sisters who live in the same house often menstruate at the  same time.

The chapter, Butternut said, talks about how “the soothing waves that emanate from the singing bowl can help the body to resonate more harmoniously by working on the waves of water within one’s own body.”

She was struck by the implication of this passage’s global impact.  “It seems to indicate that the waves of energy or emotion, whether positive or negative, that we put out will resonate in everything around us. In effect, it is our own actions that cause the synchronicities around us.  To me, it points to the same thing that many religious leaders have talked about: we must become the change that we hope to see.”

She notes that negative emotions can also multiply. “A single tweet can cause enormous ripples. With the technology we have now, it is even more important to keep ourselves in the proper frame of mind.”

So in this era of instantaneous connections and communications, how can we each become the change we want to see?

( 28 years ago today, Rob and I got married at my parents’ home. Happy anniversary, Rob!)

Posted in butternut, tibetan singing bowl | 16 Comments