When I really stop and contemplate the implications of synchronicities, I open to love. I suppose the luminous nature of Being takes residence in my heart. Maybe on some level, synchronicities remind me that I'm not alone, but connected to everything.
I'm a meditator and I time my meditation sessions with my IPhone timer. With the IPhone there are a variety of tones you can use when the time is up. There are bells, whistles, nature sounds and numerous other tones. I use the sound of a harp to end my sessions as it is a soothing way to come out of my meditations. Three days ago I finished meditating, heard the harp, turned off the timer - within seconds I heard a cricket chirping away. I looked down at my IPhone and somehow, I had inadvertently hit the cricket sound on my timer. I noted this and told Jane about the incident because Jane associates crickets with her deceased sister Pam. Shortly after Pam's death, Jane heard a cricket outside her bedroom window making the loudest cricket sound she had ever heard. Actually Jane was not all that familiar with crickets, so it was all a novelty to her. But on that day, she felt the presence of her sister and from then on crickets figured into the 'signs' she associates with Pam. The next winter a cricket moved in with us and merrily chirped away throughout the rest of the season.
Jane keeps a blog about her sister called Before I Go to Bed. It's a memorial to Pam and a way to share memories, stories and pictures about her sister, Pam as well as the rest of Jane's family. The day after I heard the cricket on my IPhone, Jane posted a picture of her sister's B&B, the Dragonfly Inn in Newport, Rhode Island in the sidebar of her blog. Along with the picture she also posted her sister's Dragonfly business card.
Besides the blog, Jane dialogues with Pam each day in her personal journal. It is one of many ways she keeps connected to her sister. She tells Pam what's going on with her, asks her questions and writes 'as if' Pam were talking back to her. This day after she had posted the Dragonfly B&B pictures and business card on her blog, Jane was doubting herself. She asked Pam if the blog was just silly and of no consequence. Jane wanted to know if she was wasting her time with it, after all Pam was in the heavenly realms and Jane figured she had no concern for Jane's writings or things of this world. Pam 'responded' by telling Jane, it does matter. The blog is about love, death, and the grief of loss, topics most of us avoid at all cost. She told Jane that the only thing that matters in life is love and encouraged her to continue with the blog.
That same morning as Jane was writing to Pam about her doubts, I was meditating by her side. I completed my meditations as usual. The alarm went off (the harp). I glanced down at my phone and somehow I had once again, inadvertently, hit something for now I saw on my screen, a display that said "DragonFly TV". I had never seen this before. I have these TV apps called ITV, TV.Com and one called TV lite. They provide a variety of TV and internet shows. I never watch them as it takes forever for a show to download. Just recently I thought I might get rid of them. Somehow I must have hit one of these and the title of a show called DragonFly TV appeared. Frankly, I'm not certain where it came from because later that day when I searched for it again in my apps, I could not find it, even though I'm certain it must be there somewhere. I did 'google' DragonFly TV on my computer, found it, it's a PBS science show for kids. News to me. Yet there it was on my IPhone. I told Jane. Again a rather interesting synchronicity considering her posting of the dragonfly pictures the night before.
Perhaps it would be easy to dismiss such things as mere coincidence, but I choose to believe this was a sign from Pam telling Jane to keep up with her blog- that it has value. I also believe the incident of the dragonfly, along with the cricket and other 'signs' are all ways of affirming the continuity and connectivity of life here and beyond. The body may depart, but the soul lives on and can still interact with us. Maybe I'm suppose to change my timer tone from a harp to the crickets.
This is so beautiful, Ron. I feel it is incumbent upon us to pay attention to synchronicity when it happens. It is probably happening all the time, if we only have eyes to see it.
ReplyDeleteNow let me share my own synchronicity story about crickets (for our connection itself is another synchronicity). My brother Bennett also died too young, of arteriosclerosis at the age of 47. He was an art photographer, and his avatar was a grasshopper silhouetted on a blade of grass backlit by a setting sun. There were many, many "coincidences" surrounding his sudden death. I posted about one in my September post on "Synchronicity" here, about how my husband had just closed on selling Bennett's country property where he had just had a log home kit delivered, ready for him to build when he died. Don and I drove out to the property after the closing. We walked around in the warm evening light, the tall grass surrounding the clearing he had made, where the log garage he had built stood. We climbed into the car to leave, pulling away slowly, and there, where I looked down, was a cricket clinging to a blade of grass. As I say in the post, what are the chances of a cricket being there on that summer night? Astronomical. But what are the chances that I would look at him, right there on the edge of grass, and that we had not planned to go out to the property but decided to at the last minute.
I really like this further cricket/grasshopper connection with Jane and Pam.
I actually was the executor of the estate, and I closed on the house, but no matter . . .
ReplyDeleteRuth
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, beautiful story about your brother. What a touching moment to find 'I love Ben' on the seat in front of you that day. Lucky us for these moments of clarity.
I just finished reading your post on synchronicity Ruth. !. It reminds me how much I love Jung. 2. It made me cry. The shock, the signs. My friend's father just died in October. As she waited at the airport in Paris to fly home to him, knowing for sure he was dying she went to sit down. After a few minutes staring into space she felt a bump of uncomfortableness under her butt. She felt the seat under her and lying there was a tiny little book an inch in diameter on....Fathers!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Ron.
ReplyDeleteWow, Jane. Your friend's story. I am learning to not say "amazing" after such things, but "yay!" or something, to indicate that they seem more and more common.
And yours from your latest post still have me reeling.
Ruth - oh what fun this is!
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