Big Sur – The Cabin by the Sea

Posted on February 25, 2009 by Trish and Rob

This synchronicity happened to Dr. L Darryl Armstrong, It beautifully illustrates what can happen when we feel strongly connected to a particular place.
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Several years ago during the first days of establishing our business, I had the occasion to work on the west coast and visit a friend in Carmel. Having always wanted to tour the area, especially Big Sur, and to get a massage at Esalen one day, I trucked off to just spend some time driving and exploring the coastal highway.

By chance I happened upon a real estate sign noting a house for sale or rent, I don’t recall which. The “house” was actually a large cabin – 2 stories that hung off the side of a cliff with the most remarkable view of the Pacific Ocean I have ever seen from a private residence. It was obvious someone had spent a great deal of their personal time and money carving out this homestead. I was mesmerized, and could imagine what life might be like in a “cabin by the sea”. Every time since then, when I have been out that way, I have driven by the cabin. These days it has a fence on the road and a gate but you can still get a glimpse.

A few years later, late one evening, I crawled on to a Southwestern flight headed home to “my own cabin in the woods” on Lake Barkley in Kentucky. I don’t recall where I was flying from, maybe Phoenix. Anyway, I got my always enjoyable exit row seat and stretched out because I was exhausted.

I normally “hibernate” on a plane and rarely strike up conversations as I prefer to read, work or sleep. The plane was not very full but sure enough this fellow chooses to sit in the exit row with me. For some reason I was drawn to his smile and immediately liked him. Eventually my southern hospitality overcame me, I guess, and I offered him a drink since I had plenty of coupons and he smiled and offered me one as well.

We chatted and I found out he was from California. We started talking about how we both liked certain areas (I mentioned Big Sur, Carmel, Monterrey) and when I got to the story about the cabin on the side of the road overlooking the ocean he got a strange expression on his face.

I thought nothing of it. I just continued describing the setting and how much I would love to live there with the view and the peace and quiet despite all the inconveniences. He finally said something to the effect, ‘You know, I understand how you feel. We obviously both work hard and have a lot of stress. It sounds like when we get home we are both ‘hermits’ in parts of our lives. I have always enjoyed my peace and solitude as well. Let me show you where I live.’

And this man, whom I had never met and yet instantly took a liking to, reaches into his brief case and pulls out a photo wallet. And yes, you guessed it. This was the man who owned the cabin I have always cherished in my mind. We were both surprised yet it seemed as if a “loop” had been closed because I left the plane that night knowing that someone I could share mutual empathy with enjoyed the “cabin by the sea” as much as I did.

Posted in c2, connections to places, places | 2 Comments

Renie and Adam Walsh

Posted on February 24, 2009 by Trish and Rob

Synchronicities often occur during highly charged emotional periods, when we’re experiencing major transitions in our lives. For a psychic, this kind of emotion is like skimming cream off the surface of milk.

This story is from Renie Wiley, a friend who lived in Cooper City, Florida. She was an empath, a psychic who tunes in to the emotions and physical body of whoever she’s reading. Renie sometimes worked with cops on difficult cases. We observed her on several occasions and wrote an article on her psychic detective work for Fate Magazine. She died in 2002.

The following story illustrates an aspect of synchronicity – precognition.

In early 1982, Renie and a cop from the Cooper City police department were driving near a mall in Hollywood, Florida, where Adam Walsh had last been seen on July 27, 1981, while shopping with his mother. The cop hoped Renie might be able to pick up something psychically about Adam – where he was, what had happened to him, who had abducted him. At this point, the police suspected he had been kidnapped, but didn’t have any leads. Renie often had an object that belonged to the victim she hoped to tune in on, but she didn’t have anything of Adam’s. Yet, posters of the boy had been plastered across South Florida, his huge, innocent eyes supplicating, begging for help. His face had been burned into the collective consciousness and that seemed to be all that Renie needed.

Within a few miles of the mall, Renie’s hands suddenly flew to her throat. She started choking, gasping for air. The cop had worked with her often enough to understand she was picking up something related to Adam and quickly sped away from the area. Several miles later, he swerved to the side of the road. By then, Renie was sobbing.

“Adam,” she whispered, “was decapitated.”

Not long afterward, the head of the six-year-old boy was found in a field in Vero Beach, more than a hundred miles north of the Hollywood mall.

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Harrison Ford synchronicity

Posted on February 23, 2009 by Trish and Rob

This one is from Terri Patrick, another blogger:

My husband Ed, had his private pilot license for about ten years when he decided to get his tail-dragger endorsement. Imagine the type of airplanes used in old movies, where the tail of the plane bumps on grass, with a small wheel. Ed set up a schedule, with the instructor Damien, for these lessons. During the middle of Ed’s lessons, Damien called to reschedule Ed’s flying time because Damien had a special client. Only later did Ed learn, that client was Harrison Ford. We watched the movie, “Six Days, Seven Nights” with an added interest.

In October 2006, Ed was in Minneapolis to teach a class, to coworkers, for his company. After a large and lively dinner, Ed went to work out, planning to return to his hotel room and prepare for the three day presentation. In shorts, sneakers, and sweaty t-shirt, Ed agreed to join the group in the bar for a glass of orange juice. Minutes later, Harrison Ford walked into the bar. Ed quickly introduced himself and their connection with Damien, and their tail-dragger endorsements, at Andover Aeroflex. For the next hour, Ed and Harrison talked about airplanes and the EAA Young Eagles program. They compared notes on airports they knew in New Jersey and Oregon. Harrison mentioned plans about building an airpark in Oregon, Ed admitted he wanted to live on one.

Eventually they shook hands and Ed went to his room. He made a few phone calls remarking how quiet and nice Harrison Ford is, as a person. Ed also mentioned, whatever they do in movies is magic, because until now, he didn’t realize Harrison Ford had a big nose. The next morning, as Ed waited for his coworkers to settle in for the class, he was told, Mr. Ford was looking for him.

Three months later, I met with a friend, Leslie Zemenek, who is a professional palmist, astrologer, and life counselor. It was my annual check-in on my stars and life path. This was an important meeting, because my parents had died months earlier, and I had put my fiction projects on hold, to write my parents love story. I was also questioning the value of continuing to work as a technical writer. For me, Leslie will even pull out The Tarot. One of the cards she interpreted as, “a man at the top of his game”, will take interest in my story.

I laughed and told her how Ed had drinks with Harrison Ford. Leslie stated, “Maybe he’ll play your dad in the movie.” This felt good. Dad was a man, who knew his purpose, generated trust in all he met, and followed his own path. This is the same type of energy Harrison Ford brings, to characters he portrays, in movies. Cool. We moved on through the psychic reading. Eventually, Leslie stated, I need to make sure my dad is OK with being famous, since he was a pretty humble guy in life. I would have to trust the language of synchronicity through prayer. I asked for a sign that daddy was OK with being famous and included the request, to recognize the meaning, of the sign. I also made choices those next two years, that have put me in contact with more men “at the top of his game” in the world of publishing, instead of technology.

This past week I posted a short story to my blog and Rob MacGregor asked me to clarify why I used the word synchronicity in my post, because he didn’t see the connection. As I replied to Rob, Ed left to drive out to our new property, on an airpark. After posting my reply, I followed the link and saw Rob adapted the script for Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. I burst out laughing because I’m adapting a manuscript for my screenwriting class and the romance has a flavor of “Alice in Wonderland meets Indiana Jones”. Suddenly all these Harrison Ford connections, over many years, were brilliant, connected.

Do I think this means Mr. Ford will discover my story and play Daddy in the movie? No, I am not a visionary and those are human choices and actions, not images of divine dictates. Is Daddy OK with being famous? Yes, but I already knew that from signs two years ago. Have I been led to new authors and men at the top of their game? Absolutely! All too obvious. Synchronicity for me is usually a personal message and requires contemplation to make the connection.

This past week, two people stated they would promote my memoir of my parents through their Disability and Veteran organizations. Both have a distribution list of 14,000. When numbers repeat it means, pay attention! However, I just received my memoir back from a reader who stated I need to work on my grammar and the time sequence of events for some of my stories. Her other comment was, I need to be more obvious, about the message or lesson, of the story. As I puzzled the meaning of all this synchronicity I did some yard work because doing something helps me. My mind mulled the connection between Ed, Harrison Ford, and Dad. Then there was something about the number 14.

Suddenly I got it. Dad and Mr. Ford both have big Roman Noses. Dad had the reading comprehension of a 14 year old. The answer is, my stories have to be as clear as the nose on his face and entertaining and understandable for a 14 year old reader, even if the more discerning reader sees a deeper message. I know this is the message because, I laughed when I got it! Daddy has a sense of humor. I won’t discredit there are more messages – in all these events – but that’s the one for today.

Terri Patrick
https://terripatrick.wordpress.com/

Posted in celebrities, harrison ford, Numbers | 2 Comments

Pearls

Posted on February 22, 2009 by Trish and Rob

This one is from Nancy McMoneagle and illustrates how cluster or serial synchronicities work:

Nancy recalls a period in her life when she kept finding pearls. Strings of pearls, a pearl bead, a bracelet of pearls. She would come upon them in the oddest places and the experience repeated itself so often, over a period of weeks, that she was forced to take a closer look. “At the time, I was working with a group of people, trying to communicate my beliefs about complex ideas. And the group just wasn’t getting it,” she said. “I finally realized the pearls represented my ‘pearls of wisdom,’ and as my mother used to say, why gives pearls to swine?” She followed the synchronistic guidance and quit the group.

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Wolfgang Pauli and 137

Posted on February 21, 2009 by Trish and Rob

Wolfgang Pauli, a physicist and Nobel laureate, was an early supporter of Jung’s theory on synchronicity and investigated the phenomenon as well. He had a rather striking experience with a set of numbers. Pauli was confounded by one of the unsolved mysteries of modern physics, the value of the fine structure constant, which involves the number 137. As F. David Peats explained, “…while the other fundamental constants of nature are all immensely small or enormously large, this fine structure constant 1/137 turns out to be a human-sized number. This number…and its place in the scale of the universe particularly puzzled Pauli.”

When he was admitted to the hospital at the age of 58 and learned he would be in room 137, he supposedly said, “I will never get out of here.” And he was right. He died shortly afterward.

Posted in 137, Numbers | Tagged | 1 Comment

Maria and #14

Posted on February 19, 2009 by Trish and Rob

Clusters of synchronicities that occur with numbers range from the odd to the truly strange. They can coalesce around a single event or continue over the course of a lifetime. In Maria’s story, the number 14 recurred four times over a period of four months.

One night Maria, a college sophomore, drove into a DUI checkpoint on her way to MacDonald’s. Earlier that evening, she’d had two beers. After performing the field sobriety tests, the policeman determined that she was impaired, arrested her, and performed the breathalyzer. Even though she blew under the legal limit for impairment, she spent 14 hours in jail before she was bailed out. Her parents hired an attorney, who felt she had a strong case for dismissal based on the video of her field sobriety tests and because she blew under the legal limit. A prosecutor was assigned to her case, After reviewing the evidence, he was ready to dismiss the charges, but was then removed from the case and another prosecutor was assigned who wanted to press charges. Her court date was set for December. Since it fell during her week of final exams, the attorney asked for a continuance and a new court date was set for February.

Before Christmas, 14 law firms filed a motion that the DUI checkpoints in this particular county were illegal because the police had too much discretion. The motion was heard on January 14 and the judged ruled in favor, which meant that all the evidence would be dismissed in 14 cases, including Maria’s.

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Inner Turmoil

Posted on February 18, 2009 by Trish and Rob

Another one from Joyce Evans, and quite dramatic.

I always hated knives because I’ve seen too much blood shed from them: a childhood flashback of my mother accidentally cutting my father, and of my brother’s many near-fatal knife attacks. One Christmas while living in Georgia, my husband, Taft, bought me a set of knives. They were so shiny I could see my face in them. New, shiny and deadly, I thought. I asked him to take them back to the store, but he wouldn’t. If I had followed my intuition, I would’ve returned them.
No, we kept them and moved them to Milwaukee with us. I still wouldn’t use them. In fact, I never even looked at them until I saw one of them lying beside my husband who was stretched across the living floor in a pool of blood.
The tension was thick as I stepped inside that room where I sensed that death hovered. I could feel its presence because I thought Taft was dying. My heart thumped, my head throbbed as I stared at him in the puddle. The room was filled with despair and darkness. I gasped. “What happened?” I asked a black-haired paramedic, my quivering voice a near whisper. “He stabbed himself, and he’s bleeding profusely. Are you his wife?”
I answered yes, and he told me to keep calling his name. I did, but Taft never answered. As they rolled him out of the apartment, I whispered: “Please God, don’t let him die.”
Before the incident, Taft had called his psychiatrist to tell him he was feeling deeply depressed and suicidal. The psychiatrist dispatched an ambulance to bring him to the hospital for treatment. Taft called me at work and left an emergency message with my editor who said I should call home immediately. After talking with Taft, I rushed home.
Taft survived, thank God, and he later told me that the pain before stabbing himself became so great that he thought cutting himself would dull it. If I had heeded the internal warning four years earlier, I would have gotten rid of those knives. Unfortunately, I didn’t recognize that my inner turmoil brought a deeper meaning – until now.

Posted in emotions, precognition | Tagged | Leave a comment

The First Secret

Posted on February 17, 2009 by Trish and Rob

Since the title of our book suggests there are seven secrets to synchronicity, we thought it was time to start revealing them. So here is secret one: Look for meaning in all coincidences. If you simply shrug off a coincidence as a meaningless or chance event, then you miss an opportunity to gain new understanding, insight or a fresh look at some aspect of your life.

Sometimes you can be so involved with what’s going on at the moment that you don’t immediately recognize a synchronicity. For instance, earlier today we experienced an unusual electrical phenomenon. We heard a rumbling sound just as a bright orange flash filled the house and all the lights blinked off, then on. We ran outside to see if the transformer near the house had blown, but didn’t notice anything. Back in the house, we were relieved that we hadn’t lost any files that were open on our computers.

We quickly forgot about the momentary incident because a personal issue suddenly came to a head and we were at odds with each other, ‘knocking heads’ so to speak. But like the abrupt electrical display, our conflict passed without serious damage to our ’emotional files.’

Only later, we realized the electrical ‘flare up’ was a physical expression of the emotional issue that was about to surface.

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Death dream

Posted on February 16, 2009 by Trish and Rob

This one is from Joyce Evans…

Azaleas spread their sweetness through the mid-morning spring air. Mama stood in front of the stove frying ham while Malachi, child No. 6, checked on her cooking minute-by-minute. Standing with his back against the kitchen wall, he looked fragile for his twenty-one years and too young to have a disabled veteran identification or a death prognosis. Four years earlier, Army doctors had sent him home on a medical discharge because of catatonic schizophrenia, a psychiatric disorder.
I had dreamed about death, and knew it was Malachi. I mentioned the dream without saying who it was, but Malachi knew, and said as much.
Everyone hated to hear about what they call my “dead folk dreams.” Every time I had one, they groaned. I actually saw the pallbearers lower his bronze coffin into the ground. My brother believed he would die because he gave me a congratulatory card a year before my college graduation. “I might not be here next year,” he said.
Six months from the dream, he was killed in an accident. We buried him in a bronze coffin that Mama selected. He was dressed in a light green suit with a vest and beige shirt and a green and beige geometric designed tie. At the grave taps played and the soldiers gave a twenty-one gun salute.
That October 17, 1979 day of the accident he seemed better after being in bed all week. I stopped by home at lunch to check on him. Mack was sitting in the white Oldsmobile with black vinyl top with his white suit on. I asked how he felt and why he was sitting outside with his church suit on.
“Just meditating,” he said. “I’m doing much better.”
Relieved, I went back to work. Later that afternoon, he ran out the door as I came in from work. “Where you going?” my mother yelled.
“Got to run an errand,” he shot back.
I thought it odd. Usually, he’d ask me to drive him. I noticed he had changed into jeans and a light sweater. It was a gorgeous fall day, the air so brisk and pumpkins were already on people’s porches. Our pecan tree was dropping so many nuts that we couldn’t pick them up fast enough.
When the emergency call came, my sister Brenda and I were at the mall buying an Atlantic blue luggage set for me. We heard the rescue truck and got a strange feeling and rushed home. Before we could get out of the car, Mother came outdoors and told us we needed to rush to the hospital. “Malachi has been in a bad wreck.”
“We told him to stop driving,” I screamed. My chest tightened and the tears stood behind the walls of my eyes.
When we got to the emergency room, we expected to see Mack, but they took us to a back room. We waited for the doctor to tell us how he was doing. “I’m sorry. There was nothing we could do.”
Joyce Evans

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Island Bikes

Posted on February 15, 2009 by Trish and Rob

When we were staying on Sugarloaf Key recently, one of our visitors from the far north (Minneapolis) road a bike around the island that we found in a storage room at the house. The bike was in good condition and had a sticker on it that said Island Bikes, 900 Truman, Key West. My friend, Rabbit, one of the 3 Roberts, (see post below)made several references to that bike shop, suggesting that we should go there. So, one evening when we went to Key West for dinner, we happened to cross Truman at the 900 block, but were surprised to see a bike shop with a different name. It was closed and we continued on. So that seemed the end of it.

However, after we returned home, Rabbit stayed on with another friend in No Name Key. During his stay, he was visited by a third friend, Toni, from Key West, who came bearing a gift: a T-shirt from Island Bikes and on the back of it, below the name of the shop, was the new address farther down Truman. Mystery solved. Of course, Toni had no idea that we’d discussed that bike shop several times in recent days, and Rabbit had been riding a bike purchased there.

Posted in objects, places, travel | Leave a comment