My keys, cellphone, and handbag with zippered compartment showing.
Last Friday, July 19, I was getting ready to go on a bus that leaves every half hour. I was planning to catch the 12:30 p.m. bus and was all ready to go, bus ticket in hand, when I looked inside my handbag for the keys. My keys and cellphone were put in the front pocket of the handbag (as usual) earlier in the day. The cellphone was there and the keys were not. I searched the entire bag frantically and looked all around for the keys to no avail. I felt the bag for the keys. Nothing. I shook the bag for keys. Nothing. There are five keys on the ring along with a big red R of foam rubber about 3″ x 3″ x 1″. Finally it became obvious I was going to miss the 12:30 bus, so I got a drink of water and began to think about options, like from whom I could get my apartment keys. I looked around some more and went back to my bag and there in the front pocket of the bag right next to my cell phone were the keys with the large red “R” bigger than life. I took the one o’clock bus and pondered what mechanism was at work here. Might I have been mysteriously saved from some tragedy by not getting on the 12:30 bus or were the pixies responsible? I’ll never know, but I do know that those keys were not in there when I looked thoroughly the first three times and I was totally alone, at least devoid of visible human company, so no other person could have tampered with the bag.
Later I went on Facebook and my friend Sue (who I hadn’t I hadn’t spoken to about my high strangeness) posted this account:
“Last Monday, July 15, I was mowing my acre of lawn and had made 2 passes under the 60-foot-tall pine tree at the south edge of the yard. I drove the riding mower another 50 feet west of the pine when I was suddenly unable to steer it. I hit the brake and shut off the mower. When I got off and checked the front of the mower, I found a small piece of 1/4-inch plywood 9 inches wide and 15 inches long wedged between the right front wheel and the mower deck. The wood was quite wet from the recent rains and I was unable to dislodge it or even move it a little. After trying for about 10 minutes, I gave up and since it was almost noon and very hot (Florida), I went in to eat, rehydrate, and rest. When I went out later, I found that a 7-inch diameter, 25-foot-long, living branch had fallen off of that pine precisely where the next pass of the mower would be. The branch was so heavy that I am unable to drag it off. I don’t have any idea where that piece of plywood came from because I didn’t see it when I mowed the week before. I live on my small horse farm and had the branch fallen on me, nobody would have missed me for half a day. I think that this is not only synchronicity but also divine intervention. I still feel shaken by the experience.”
Here we see the fallen pine branch and the lawn mower in the background, courtesy of Sue.
What exactly can be derived from these experiences? One thing I have known for quite a few years: if you are unexpectedly delayed, go with the flow and don’t fight the current. There could be a reason. Your guardian angel, your higher self, your guides or the effulgent light of the universe itself could have your back.
One day over twenty years ago I was walking downtown on the west side of Third Avenue in New York City. I was literally pulled into an expensive (to me at the time) Italian deli a couple of blocks below 23rd Street. I had passed there dozens of times before but never went inside. I just knew my budget couldn’t deal with it. That late afternoon I could not resist going in. I had nothing I needed to buy there and I wasn’t even hungry. Yet I couldn’t resist going in. It was a small but not tiny store. I looked around for several minutes and having gotten uncomfortable with the salespersons’ “Can I help you?” queries, I quickly left.
As I made my way further down Third Avenue, I became aware of police and ambulance sirens and then an accident scene between 13th and 14th Streets. Apparently a taxi went out of control and mowed two women pedestrians down killing them. It is quite possible, had I not gone into the specialty food store, that I would have been precisely in the path of that taxi.
Fahrusha is a professional intuitive who does readings in New York’s East Village and elsewhere. She can be contacted by email at: email@example.com
Wikipedia defines synchronicity as “the experience of two or more events that are apparently causally unrelated or unlikely to occur together by chance, yet are experienced as occurring together in a meaningful manner”. Karl Jung was the psychologist that first gave attention to the phenomena in the 1920’s.
I like the following account of synchronicity for several reasons. Ilene is a friend of mine outside of the paranormal world and though she is a talented musician, in other ways she is simply an everyday person, without any agenda in the area of the anomalous. This true story shows how synchronicities can pop up anywhere, where you least expect them.
Ilene Weiss is a songwriter, performer, and musical clown. During the summer of 1998 she was working for several weeks as a clown at Hole in the Wall Gang Camp in Ashford CT. For those of you who don’t know, it is a no-fee camp for youth, ages 7 to 15, with cancer and serious blood diseases, who reside in New England, New York or New Jersey. It was founded by actor/ philanthropist Paul Newman in 1988. (Please feel free to click on the link and send them money, you really don’t need a new pair of Louboutin spikes especially if you have hair on your chest. 😉 )
Ilene had two days off between camp sessions and decided to go to to Providence, Rhode Island on a day trip. Providence is about an hour’s ride from Ashford and a nice day’s jaunt.
During the 1970’s Ilene spent just over four years in Providence. She went there originally in the fall of 1973 as an freshman art student at Rhode Island School of Design, lived there until Dec 1977, but left RISD in the of spring 1976. So she was going to Providence for a “memory walk” to see how the town had changed in the more than 20 years since she’d left. Additionally she was currently in the midst of a romantic infatuation with a man who had lived in Providence during the same years she had. They did not know each other then.
During her “memory walk” she decided it might be a clever idea to send the man a postcard of the town, a postcard evocative of the era that they’d spent there separately. She walked around town visiting the places she’d frequented when she lived there, checking out the available postcards but they were all too new and shiny, showing more of how the place changed than how it had been when they’d both lived there, not knowing one another.
Finally she came to the College Hill Bookstore. It had been there way back when and was worth a try. She found a rack of postcards in the back of the store and again nothing but the newer cards. As she turned the rack around she glimpsed a few old ones- the color was different. She had found a few small overlooked postcards that seemed to be of the right era. And the neighborhood even looked familiar. Yes! It was a picture of the corner of Thayer and Waterman, near one of the Brown University Quads. Wow! A find! The man had gone to Brown. And, holy cow, there was the Jo-Art Copy Shop! She knew exactly where that was. She had briefly been the proprietor of Kneecap Natural Foods right around the corner from Jo-Art.
She took one of the postcards to the cash register and paid. A few minutes later she had occasion to sit down. She took out the postcard for another look, wondering what she’d write on the back of it. Something funny, yet romantic and appropriate, but not too forward. The horse cart was unusual. The faces on the card looked somehow familiar and the car was just like the one her old friend Michael used to drive. And, the young woman in profile at the cart kind of looked like her. The woman was even dressed as she dressed then. Looking closer she decided she had had the same clothes. Wait a minute, it WAS her in the photo. She was totally in shock, blown away. How could it be? But it was her, standing in profile with a kerchief on her head on the right side of the horse cart.
After regaining her composure she hurried back to the College Hill Book Store and bought their remaining stock of the postcard.
How does one explain a synchronicity such as this? What are the chances of something like this happening? And moreover, what, if anything, does it mean?
I’d love to hear about your own synchronicity, dear reader.
Fahrusha is an intuitive reader and creative visualization coach in New York City. You can reach her at firstname.lastname@example.org.