UPDATE on 11s, from a numerologist

Posted on May 9, 2010 by Trish and Rob

 from Soul Cards

As we discussed in a post on April 22, Jung considered numbers to be archetypes. He theorized that when clusters of numbers kept appearing in a person’s life, it meant the archetype of that number had become active in an individual’s psyche.

So we asked our friend, Connie Cannon, a numerologist whom we’ve written about in the planetary empaths posts,to provide some insights.
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There is enormous synchronicity in numbers and in combinations of numbers, especially when they appear in pairs – 11-11, 22-22, 33-33 etc.

They are never, ever meaningless. Each of us comes into a given lifetime within a mathematical matrix that has been designed by our higher selves on the soul level, and our lives follow the directives of that mathematical matrix. There is absolutely nothing….NOTHING…. in our individual lives that cannot be found within the blueprint, if we know where to look.

The master frequencies represented by dual numbers such as 11, 22, 33, 44, etc., always carry heavy-duty, often occult- hidden – meanings for us, and when they appear repetitively in our lives, they are speaking to us. All numbers are representative of frequencies, but those master numbers are universally critical, and that is the reason so many events and incidents of impact occur under the influence of those frequencies. It is not coincidental.

The phrase, AS ABOVE, SO BELOW is manifested in universal frequencies as a mathematical constant. Using the frequency 11 as a single example, the name JESUS resonates to 11, and the name LUCIFER resonates to 11. This is not a happenstance. It is a mathematical fact that is across the board in each and every aspect of the universe.

Generally speaking, I have been able to determine that when we have a master frequency appearing in duality, as in 11-11, it is somehow referencing its two-fold nature. We have only ten number factors in our universe, which are 0 through 9, but there are myriad combinations of those number factors, none of which is without dual interpretations. AS ABOVE, SO BELOW. We simply must learn how to untangle the matrix in order to see the meanings. Fascinating, because it offers insights we cannot otherwise access.

Here are general definitions of the combinations:

11 is the master frequency of inspirational sensitivity and intuition.

22 is the master frequency of bringing inspiration and intuition into its physical manifestation, in whatever material form that may be.

33 is the master frequency of selfless giving….of teaching and sharing the end results of the two previous frequencies, on the cosmic as opposed to the personal level.

44 is a master number “unto itself”.  It is inter-changeable with the frequency 26, and carries the root number “8”, which is the frequency of God.  8 is the single most powerful frequency in our universal number system.  As well as being the frequency of GOD, it is also the frequency of karma and of cancer.

The easiest thing to consider about the oft-experienced 11-11 is that it is actually 22, which indicates something somewhere very important is being manifested into material form.  When the 11 stands alone, it remains non-corporeal, but when it stands beside its twin, as in 11-11, it has become three-dimensional.  Does this make sense to you?

The most essential point to understand is that each of these master frequencies is much more powerful in their expressions than in their lower root frequencies and must be addressed accordingly, whether they are expressing their positive or negative characteristics…..dependent upon the circumstances in which they appear.

Posted in connie cannon, Numbers | 44 Comments

Happy Mother’s Day

Posted on May 9, 2010 by Trish and Rob

Paul Klee’s Mother & Child

Gypsy sent me this image for mother’s day, so I’m posting it for all the other moms out there.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Posted in klee, mother's day | 11 Comments

The Trickster and the Oil Rig

Posted on May 9, 2010 by Trish and Rob

The trickster is a classic Jungian archetype, embodied in characters like Smeagol from Lord of the Rings. A trickster synchronicity usually reveals itself with a twisted humor or a wry irony that makes you feel like you’re the brunt of the universe’s joke. It appears that the explosion of the oil rig in the gulf has a trickster element to it.

As oil continues to spew in the gulf, more details are emerging about what happened.  A bubble of methane gas is now blamed for the explosion. It apparently escaped from the well, traveled up the drill column. As it traveled, it expanded and blew through seals and barriers before it exploded. These details have emerged from interviews with survivors.

Now here’s the trickster part of this story and it’s truly bizarre.  While the well was being converted from an exploration well to a production well, the process that enabled the methane bubble to travel up the drill column, BP execs were on the rig, toasting their safety record. They were injured but managed to get to the life boats and escape.

It was as if the trickster was saying, What? You’re toasting your safety record?  Well, we’ll see about that, boys.

Perhaps it’s time for the administration to read Carl Jung.

Posted in gulf, oil spill, trickster | 16 Comments

First Crop Circle of 2010

Posted on May 8, 2010 by Trish and Rob

I’m not sure where crop circles fall in the synchronicity scheme of things. Sometimes, the interpretations of the images they create seem to coincide with external events in a way that could be termed synchronicity. But as a phenomenon, they are infinitely mysterious, manifestations of something no one really understands, despite the various theories about who or what creates them and what they may mean. At any rate, this one is the first of 2010.
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The first crop circle of 2010 measures 180 feet in diameter. According to crop circle connector, it formed in southern Wiltshire, just below the Hill Fort Old Sarum in Hampshire. From the Daily Mail UK: “Old Sarum was a mighty Iron Age hill fort which became the site of the first Salisbury cathedral. Chosen because of its strategic importance, it was where two trade routes and the River Avon meet.The Romans installed a garrison in the river valley below the site which was named Sorviodunum. Under the Anglo Saxons it ranked among the most considerable towns of the West Kingdom before the Normans arrived and built a castle there in 1069. The construction of the cathedral began in 1075 and it was nearly 200 years later that the second cathedral that stands today was built.”

 According to crop circle connector, this crop circle lies on a ley line “which has an alignment with Stonehenge, and cuts the nearside edge of the inner banks of the fortified encampment of Old Sarum.”
Ley lines are supposedly grids of energy that crisscross the planet. The spots where these lines intersect are thought to be imbued with mystical energy. Many ancient structures were built along these lines. They were first written about by Alfred Watkins, an amateur archeologist,  in his book The Old Straight Track.  Crop circles remain one of the most intriguing enigmas on the third rock from the sun.

 
The ley line grid across the planet

Posted in 2010, crop circles | 15 Comments

Gypsy’s Road Trip Synchros

Posted on May 7, 2010 by Trish and Rob

                                           Painting by Paul Klee

Travel synchronicities are always intriguing and can involve virtually any sort of meaningful coincidence. For Gypsy, whose synchros we’ve posted before, a recent trip east was jammed with synchronicities. She was kind enough to write up this one, which has the trickster’s fingerprints on it. The story also addresses the law of attraction – and manifestation, but with word plays!

Since Gypsy led me to Paul Klee, I decided to use one of his paintings to illustrate this synchro.
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On my first morning of the trip east as I travel through the Virginia mountains,  the day has been OK but there are the beginnings of overcast skies and then clouds. I’m really hoping  it doesn’t rain as I love seeing all the spring glory in the mountains. But the skies darken.  I’m in the right lane going up the mountain and thinking the clouds are  really are looking ominous, like the tornadic clouds I used to see in northern Little Rock years ago.

So as I’m watching the clouds swirl and hoping they don’t swirl downward, I see a large white bus about to pass me in the middle of this.I’m thinking how stupid – pouring rain, uphill, winds blowing, passing in outside lane. And there, as the draws alongside me, I see two words written in huge black letters  on the side of the bus:  “TORNADO TOURS.”

So I’m going on down the mountain and the winds have started to lighten a bit and the rain is no longer pouring and I’m thinking  it’s getting better.. So I decide to listen to some music to lighten my clinched-fist-on-the-steering-wheel mood. Before I’d left home, my daughter had played a couple of her own CDs and had taken a couple of mine out to do hers so I  had no clue as to what CD was in which  order or even if she’d replaced the ones she’d emoved. In any event, I hit the “on” button and there was Van the Man (Morrison) singing these exact words:   “then the rain let up and the sun came up and we were gettin’ dry…”

As if that isn’t enough, after another hour or so I realize how hungry I am. I haven’t eaten at all. But I’m still in the mountains in between little villages and towns, wondering which exits would have “real” food like fresh fruit. I’m debating with myself about where to turn off. I’m starving, can’t wait too much longer for a bite of something. I look down the road and see a large sign: Hungry Mother State Park. 

On the last leg of my trip down the mountain, I hit the little two-lane highway  that is a straight shot to Shrevesport, my destination. It isn’t a route I like.There are no towers at all in the area, so cell reception is impossible. The road is in bad shape, it’s dark, you get the picture. Despite my trepidation, I decide  to just buckle up and keep moving as it’s the shortest route. Now, about this time I’m having a mental dialogue with myself about the highway and I remember this is the same highway where the crash scene in the movie Premonition was filmed. I get this cold, clammy feeling and grip the steering wheel more tightly.

Just as I’m thinking how much I don’t like this, a star streaks across the highway right in front of me. What a sign. I immediately relax, knowing that all is well.

Posted in travel, word play | 10 Comments

The White Rabbit and the Lost Earring

Posted on May 6, 2010 by Trish and Rob

 The ways in which lost objects return to their owners usually involves nearly impossible odds and synchronicity. Last yeaer, we posted one such story. Now we’ve got another one, from T. Clear.
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 About ten years ago I’d lost an earring that my boys had given me for Mother’s Day. They were my faves — a blue stone called “Montana” in a sterling setting. After it had been gone for about a month, I came home from work one evening just at dusk, and as I got out of my car in the driveway, saw a white rabbit on the grassy parking strip. White rabbit! I squatted down in a lapine fashion, so as to be closer to this seeming apparition. It performed the customary nose twitches, and I attempted conversation. In the process, something glimmered in a last sunray between the stones in the aggregate driveway — aha! A piece of earring, tarnished, stoneless, but otherwise intact, which was amazing considering that I had driven over it many times in the previous thirty days. And when I turned my head just a fraction, I saw the blue stone, also safely nestled between stones. Joy! I brought it inside, polished up the silver, tweaked the setting with my pliers, and glued the Montana gem back into place. AND NEVER SAW THE RABBIT AGAIN.

So. Recently P. and I were downtown Seattle for a Patty Griffin show, and after eating dinner at The Virginia Inn, had some time to kill before the doors opened, so we high-tailed it a few blocks down to the Borders store on 4th. While perusing books, I reached up to my ear and realized I’d once again lost an earring, a lovely golden dangler I bought from an artist at the Redmond Farmer’s Market. Sadness! And we’d covered a lot of pavement that evening since I’d put them on…

As we headed back over to the concert venue, while bemoaning the loss of yet another favorite earring, I began to tell P. the tale of the white rabbit and the blue gem. I can get dramatic with the body language in the midst of story-telling, and said, as I gestured passionately down to the sidewalk — and I looked down at the driveway and THERE IT WAS —

Well, indeed. In fact, it was there, the golden earring, exactly where I was pointing. And how many people had walked past it while we moseyed through the bookstore? Walked by and missed its glint, its glimmer? Or saw it and left it in hopes of retrieval by its owner?

Luck? Coincidence? Magic? (ie, white rabbit.)

All of the above?
Posted in lost objects, white rabbit | 18 Comments

UPDATE: Oil Spill and the Loop Current

Posted on May 5, 2010 by Trish and Rob

  These images are from ABC, illustrating how the oil spill metastasized in just three days. The CEO of British Petroleum has said that stopping the leak is “like performing open heart surgery at 5,000 feet.”

Fishing has been banned in the gulf. The oil spill is now predicted to be worse than the Valdez.Within a day, the spill is supposed to enter the Loop Current – think of this as the gulf stream’s conveyor belt – and eventually it will enter the Florida Keys and enter the Gulf stream along the east coast of the U.S. 

If you saw the head honcho of BP on the news at any point today – May 3 – then you undoubtedly heard him say that even though the company wasn’t responsible for the spill, they will pay for the cleanup. Huh? They aren’t responsible? Then who is?

Rush Limbaugh said that the “ecology would self-regulate.” Huh? Isn’t this what the experts claimed about the free market and derivatives?

Representative Gene Taylor, a Democrat from Mississippi, compared the massive oil slick to “chocolate milk” and said it would break up naturally. Huh? Doesn’t that sound a lot like Rush’s “self-regulation”?

House Minority Leader John Boehner (R-Ohio) has a novel approach to the problem: keep drilling.

Senator Mary Landrieu (D-Louisiana!) is demanding that the U.S. not “retreat” from further offshore drilling.

Governor Rick Perry of Texas attributed the spill to “an act of God” and hopes that it won’t deter us from drilling in the gulf.

Meanwhile, California’s Republican governor Schwarzenegger has withdrawn his support of gulf drilling, Florida’s Governor Crist says to forget it. You would think that “forgetting it” would be obvious, right? I mean, really, does the message get any louder than this?

Today, I went to our local Publix to buy fish for dinner. The guy behind the counter, who definitely knows his fish and his customers, informed me that tuna would be on sale tomorrow. Then he said, “At least tuna won’t be in short supply soon, but just about everything else will be.”

The oil spill has become what Seth (Jane Roberts) would call a mass event. It has entered the collective consciousness. So for the last few days, I’ve been paging through The Individual and the Nature of Mass Events,  one of the books Jane Roberts channeled for Seth, searching for something relevant to this catastrophe. The book was published in 1981, long before these kinds of disasters. The closest analogy is the Three Mile Island horror,  man-made, like this one, but Seth doesn’t go into it in any depth. I ran across some other treasures, though, that we might apply generally.

“There is nothing more stimulating, more worthy of actualization, than the desire to change the world for the better. That is indeed each person’s mission. You begin by working in that area of activity that is your own unique one, with your own life and activities. You begin in the corner of an office, or on the assembly line, or in the advertising agency, or in the kitchen. You begin where you are.”

Always, according to Seth and many other metaphysical teachers, our point of power lies in the present.  
So perhaps, collectively,we should imagine the spill gone. Poof. Blue waters. Ecosystems flourishing. Dolphins, turtles, birds, fish, jellyfish, everyone is doing fine out there. Turn off the news for a few days. Maintain the image of a flourishing ocean, a happy planet. Maybe this practice is delusional. But hey, suppose it isn’t? Maybe it’s the same energy that operates when a group of people pray for the healing of a loved one.Can’t hurt to try.

Posted in oil spill, Seth | 18 Comments

Synchros in the news

Posted on May 5, 2010 by Trish and Rob

Patrons at a bar in Wisconsin had a reason to ‘fear the deer’ when two deer crashed through the glass door and raced into the bar while the patron were watching the Milwaukee Bucks.
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Meanwhile, the address of the busted Times Square car bomber was made public. It’s 119 Long Hill Ave., Shelton, Connecticut. Those numbers, of course, are 911 backwards.  It looks like he did everything backwards, bungling the job. A good thing, too.

Thanks to Connie Cannon for the heads up on the address. She also notes that numbers are read right to left in Hebrew and Aramaic.

UPDATE:
Here’s the best synchro in the news for the past week. A newscaster reporting about Tiger Wood’s neck injury misprounced disk calling it…Tiger’s ‘bulging dick.’

Posted in 91, car bomber | 8 Comments

Kali the Conure

Posted on May 4, 2010 by Trish and Rob

One day while poking around in blogland, I ran across a wonderful story about mourning doves at maggie’s secret garden. Her story reminded me of the dusky conure we bought in 2000, a few weeks after we had moved into our present home. Kali was a present for Megan’s 10th birthday.

We bought her at a wonderful pet store where many of the birds that are sold are hand-raised in the hatchery. We even knew her birthdate – 6/4/2000. We couldn’t adopt her until she was a certain number of weeks old, so every afternoon, Megan and I drove up to the store to spend time with Kali.

From the moment we brought her home, she got along famously with our golden retriever. Our three cats didn’t seem to know what to make of her and never bothered her. My dad, who was living with us then and in a wheelchair, got a real kick out of her when she rode on the back of his wheelchair or on his shoulder. 
At first, she spent her days on our back porch, always out of her cage, where she could see other birds in the yard. Rob taught her to say a few words, which she eagerly used whenever one of us were within range.

As she got older, we would move her cage and its stand outside every morning, beneath a large schefflera tree. Her cage door was always open and it wasn’t long before she learned to climb onto the top of the cage and then into the tree. She would climb down only when the spirit moved her to splash around in the large bowl we kept on top of her cage. Every evening at dusk, we moved her and the cage inside again. She would crawl inside her little hammock, roll onto her back, and sleep the night away. Kali was the paragon of embrace the moment.

In 2004, she laid a couple of eggs and sat on them for a full straight month before we finally were able to dispose of them. They weren’t fertilized and were beginning to rot! Relieved of the need to sit on the eggs, she returned to he roost in the tree outside.

2004 was a bad year for hurricanes in South Florida. During two hurricanes that hit our area, Rob, Megan and I brought all the animals in with us, into the back bedroom. As rain and wind pounded the hurricane shutters, as the power went off, as the streets started to flood, Kali was perfectly happy on top of her cage or huddled into the little cloth cocoon where she slept at night. But she was always delighted afterward to climb up into her tree in the back yard. And it was her tree. When other birds came around, she made it clear that although they were welcome, she was the boss of this tree.

The fall of 2005 was difficult. My dad died in September and a month later,  Hurricane Wilma roared into town. Fortunately, Wilma was traveling fast, but she was intense. The front part of the storm tore apart back yards, hurled fences away,  ripped down power lines, ripped off roofs. The eye of the storm passed right over our area and suddenly the sky turned blue, the air was balmy, the sun shone. We knew we had about 30 minutes to walk outside and access the damage before the back side of the storm hit us.

The first thing we noticed was that Kali’s tree had been split down the middle, the top of it lobbed off as if some monster had taken a huge bite out of it. In retrospect, I realize it freaked me out, which was why I didn’t take any photos of it. The tree had begun its life in my parents’ back yard and when we had moved, I’d dug it up and potted it and brought it with us.

There wasn’t much time to think about it. We cleaned up what we could and hurried inside as the back of the storm came at us.

Thirty minutes later, Wilma had moved on and a cold front swept in.  No one had electricity and all over the neighborhood, generators were now chattering away. We put Kali outside near her tree,  but it was apparent that she wasn’t happy about its ruined condition. Then something spooked her – a generator, one of us moving too fast or something, and suddenly she took off into the dusk, squawking loudly. We ran after her, thought we saw her perched on a pole, but then it got dark and she stopped squawking. We kept walking around the area, calling for her, but she didn’t squawk back, didn’t appear.

It got down into the 40s that night and I worried about her out there, in the cold. The next morning, Rob found her across the street, burrowed under some wet leaves, shivering. Not a single vet office was open, we were helpless and just tried to keep her warm.  She died a day later, laying on my chest. In some way, the ruin of her tree presaged her death. And because that tree had been born in my parents’ back yard, it also closed a chapter in my own life.

We buried her under the tree. About a year later, we noticed the tree was recovering. Where it had been split in half, leaves were sprouting on both sides of the split. Now, five years later, the tree has fully recovered. I hope it means that Kali and perhaps my dad, in some new form,  may be on their way back to us.

Posted in birds as messengers, kali, nature | 16 Comments

UPDATE: Censorship in Thailand

Posted on May 4, 2010 by Trish and Rob

Apparently Thailand censors the Internet. We received this note from a friend who is living there, concerning our post about supernatural breasts!
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” You know, I can’t open the post on your blog. It’s been blocked by Thai super authorities…because of the bras, I think. Weird when you think that in Patpong, the red light district, there are women serving drinks with no clothes on, wearing just boots.”

She subscribes to the posts, however, and was apparently able to receive today’s post through email. The censorship concerned her access to the actual post.

Posted in internet censorship, Thailand | 13 Comments