The day was so cold I wasn’t sure I’d make it to yoga class. I was in the bathroom washing and getting dressed while planning my strategy. If I wasn’t ready in time I’d have to go to the gym instead and be bored senseless on the treadmill.

My mind wandered. I started thinking about making a headband. The best way might be to crochet one in an alternating rib stitch. That would give it a bit of elasticity and keep my hair off my face and my ears warm. What color should it be? Maybe close to my hair color which is a light auburn brown. Would I ever get the time to do such a thing? I continued musing that I used to do such things fairly regularly. Where does my time go nowadays?

I was out the door in plenty of time to make the yoga class, in fact I was there before the teacher. A young woman with cropped black hair walked in two minutes later. Bizarrely she was wearing the very same hair band that I had a half hour prior considered making, crocheted in an alternating rib stitch in a muted brick red. I asked her if she had crocheted herself and she looked at me as though I might be slightly daft and mumbled something about her mother. She was clearly uninterested in chatting with me about it, which was okay, but I was a bit blown away. This was clearly not a commercially common head band but the very one I had imagined making.

This is the kind of thing that happens to me on a regular basis and I don’t often write about. Was it synchronicity, intention or precognition? I honestly don’t know and am not sure if the word matters. It is what makes everyday life magical.

Fahrusha is an intuitive reader and co-host of “Shattered Reality Podcast.”

Wreckage courtesy of Emmanuel Foudrot/Reuters

Wreckage courtesy of Emmanuel Foudrot/Reuters

Germanwings Flight 9525, an Airbus A320, took off at 10:01 a.m. March 24, 2015 from Barcelona, bound for Dusseldorf. The plane had 144 passengers and six crew members on board. At approximately 10:40 that plane crashed into difficult terrain near Digne-les-Bains in the French Alps. By now, dear reader, you probably know all about this very sad tragedy.

10 a.m. Barcelona time is 4 a.m. New York time. A client and friend of mine, Jill Jacobson, was at home in Brooklyn NY in the process of falling asleep. She was roused, she estimates, at 1 a.m. the morning of March 24 (3 hours before the plane took off) because words, a poem perhaps, were rolling around in her head while she was in the liminal state. She got up from bed and wrote them down. Then she promptly went back to bed and immediately went deeply to sleep. When she got up the following morning she forgot all about the words she had jotted down on the paper, perhaps because she wasn’t fully awake when she wrote them. She went outside to do some errands. When she returned home and put on Channel 7 news, she heard about the plane crash and something on the broadcast triggered the memory of the poem she wrote, something about flying and jet fuel. She went to her desk and found the note she penned during the night and this is what it said:


These experiences happen to me every so often, like when I was at Jivamukti Yoga some years ago, sitting cross-legged and waiting with some 20-30 others for a class to begin. I became aware of two persons behind me and heard their exact conversation in my head about a minute before they actually spoke it.

50 something woman: “I saw you here last week. Do you usually come to the 6 pm class?”

Late 20s hunk: “When it’s convenient.”

50 something woman: “I come here every day.”

Late 20s hunk: “Cool.”

50 something woman: “My name’s Channa. What’s yours?”

Late 20s hunk: (slightly derisive) “Chana, like chana shag? You’re named after chick peas? (Chuckle)”

50 something woman: (Slightly annoyed) “No, it’s Hebrew. It means graceful one”

Late 20s hunk: “That’s nice.”

Then the yoga class began.

It was curious, but it had no importance or meaning to me. I wanted to understand what happened and why it happened. It had zero effect on my life. I didn’t know the guy at all, the woman I knew only by sight. I never had any meaningful interaction with either of them before or after, and today I wouldn’t know either of them if I fell over them on the street.

This past Wednesday, I was at the health club with a good friend. I was on the elliptical trainer doing my time while she was across the room on the stair master. My mind went down a curious alley. I began to think almost obsessively about a center staircase in a home I visit regularly. I thought about how much room that attractive wooden staircase takes up in the center of that home and wondered if it would be practical or feasible to replace the large staircase with a straight wooden ladder to the next level. I got a real clear picture in my mind of the ladder. My practical side knew this idea was absurd and would be dangerous to implement, (imagine going up and down the ladder with laundry, for instance) but the ladder image was hard to dispel from my mind.

Some minutes later (perhaps about 20), I had moved to the recumbent bike and my friend was next to me on the upright bike. The bikes have a TV feature. I did not have my TV turned on, but my friend did. She was watching a real estate reality show which was called something like “International House Hunters”. The mute crawl was active, so I could read basically what was going on. A young woman sought to purchase an apartment in a Northern European city that could’ve been Amsterdam. I was not watching that closely, just doing my time on the bike. The prospective buyer was being shown a variety of apartments and sure enough, she was shown one on an upper floor, the price of which had been reduced, due to the fact that it could only be reached by climbing a wooden ladder (just exactly like the persistent one in my earlier technicolor daydream) from the floor below. She chose that apartment and replaced the wooden ladder with a tiny but stylish wrought-iron circular staircase and ostensibly lived happily ever after. I must admit that I have never encountered an apartment that was entered by a totally vertical ladder in New York or any other place I’ve visited.

My question here is why did I see this ladder ahead of time? Could it be considered precognition or some kind of weird time displacement? Because I work as an intuitive reader, seeing symbols is not unusual for me. Frequently I’ll see a symbol in relationship to a client and usually it has significance to the client. It is helpful to him or her in terms of the reading and that is as it should be. It is in context and for a purpose. I, in fact, actively seek these signs and symbols through meditation and receive them with the help of Guidance.

Currently I can see no purpose to either of the above mentioned events. To me they both had an unusual other-worldly texture of something out of sync like a skipping phonograph record in the non-physical realm. As a metaphysical seeker, I will continue to ponder these and similar anomalies in hopes of an answer.