Signs & Synchronicities

Synchronicity has existed for thousands of years but has been given different names: harbingers, portents and omens for example.  We humans have been making meaningful connections to events for a long time.  Harbingers, portents and omens however all talk of the future.  They are signs of a coming event and were typically left to skilled interpreters to read and decide whether they made good or bad news.  These days we tend to use all three words with negative connotations.  Synchronicity on the other hand is something that tends to be more personal and immediate.

We talk of coincidences and trivialise the meaning of such events.  By saying it is ‘just a coincidence’ takes the magic out of two or more events that seem miraculously connected.  Co meaning together and incidence – incident simply means two events happening together.  Nothing more, nothing less.

It was Carl Jung the Swiss psychiatrist and founder of Analytical Psychology who first used the term synchronicity to explain a acausal connecting principle – meaning that We Are One, and everything is connected, including our minds and inner states and the real physical world around us. Just as the physical world affects us, so we also affect the physical world. Things that happen that seem to have no common cause yet experienced together create a greater meaning than the individual occurrence. Jung was treating a patient in which she had dreamt of a scarab beetle when he heard a noise behind him, like a gentle tapping.  He turned to see a flying insect knocking against the window pane from outside.  He caught the creature in the air as it flew in and it found it to be a scarabaeid beetle the closest relative to a scarab beetle in Northern Europe which contrary to its usual habits had felt an urge to get into a dark room at the very moment the woman was talking of her dream.  

A synchronous event can mean different things to different people.  Whatever happens is how you interpret it that defines the meaning.  The beauty of synchronicity is that when you notice it is means exactly what it is supposed to mean, to you.  Even if your best friend is stood right beside you when you ‘notice’ something they may interpret it in a different way.  They may not see it at all.  It’s what makes synchronicity such a difficult concept to prove scientifically.

Once we are aware of the existence of synchronicity, we begin to see it everywhere. We begin to see meaning in coincidences that used to seem like mere chance. We begin to understand that there is a connection between our psyche and the physical world. This is not something that we can explain in terms of cause and effect, and it’s not useful to us to think about in those terms. It is the sheer symbolic nature of the phenomena that is useful to us. Our unconscious reaches out to our consciousness with these symbols, which represent some knowledge contained in the collective unconscious. If we are open to recognizing and accepting these symbols, it becomes possible for us to consciously “experience” this knowledge in a spiritual sense.

My first experience of synchronicity started with a song – I heard it over and over and it heralded the knowledge that there was spirit was around and helping me.  It started about a year before my then husband and I split up, at the time I did not know that this would happen but I started to hear a song over and over – it was called Someone to Watch Over me from the musical Porgy & Bess.  It was at this period that I became aware that my Dad was trying to make contact with me to help me through this upcoming difficult time, and boy did I receive a lot of help!  I went from being a disbeliever to someone who listened and acted on guidance I was given.

While normally synchronicity is a personal experience, as I have mentioned before, the most amazing synchronicity I have experienced is one that is affecting a huge number of people at the same time and these numbers are getting larger all the time.  I am referring to the 11:11 phenomena. There are many different theories regarding this phenomena I have some of my own but regarding synchronicity it is proof that we are all one and connected as it is happening to so many of us.

I first noticed 11:11 about six years ago which coincided with my spiritual growth.  It started very insidiously and I have no idea how long I saw it until I realised eventually that there was something going on.  When I investigated I found that others were having the same experience and now six years on the amount of people this is happening to has sky rocketed.  When I see 11:11 I am reminded that I am a spiritual being having a physical experience and that we are all connected, it also prompts me and tells me that I am on the right track.   It can also be very reassuring.  A number of years ago I suffered panic attacks whilst driving alone and one day I was having particular problems driving to work and on the verge of returning home when a German car pulled out in front of me with the number plate 1111.  I was amazed and continued my journey.  When I went through a very difficult experience and probably at my lowest ebb I awoke and found that 11 11 had been written on my mirror in the night.  I don’t know by whom or how but it gave me the strength to carry on.

I also become bombarded with words, phrases etc.  I had never heard of Reiki until the word started appearing all over the place.  I would read about it, hear about it everywhere.  This led me to enrol on a Reiki 1 class and have been healing ever since.

If you have ever experienced a time when something going on in your mind coincided strangely with something that happened in the physical world, then you have experienced synchronicity. You suddenly think about someone; the phone rings and they’re on the other end. You dream about someone you haven’t seen in years, and discover that they just died. You hear a name that you’ve never heard before, and suddenly you’re hearing it everywhere. You have an idea that you’ve never thought before, and suddenly that idea is everywhere.

I experience synchronicities not only in songs or visually but in words.

When I decided to go into business with my sister, my heart was telling me it was not the right thing to do, however my head was telling me that it was the perfect opportunity.  Also as soon as the business started I began to get bombarded with the word Phoenix.  At its peak I was hearing, seeing, reading this word several times a day.  I remember telling a work colleague about it and she experienced it with me a number of times in just a few days and it completely freaked her out!  I knew there was a message in there somewhere for me and ultimately as the business and personal relationship with my sister became fraught and upsetting the message became clear – the death and rebirth of the Phoenix – and my painful process through hurt, upset, forgiveness would all become alright in the end – which it did but was  a slow and painful process. Happily that is all behind us and valuable lessons were learned!  Always listen to your heart!!

Once we are aware of the existence of synchronicity, we begin to see it everywhere. We begin to see meaning in coincidences that used to seem like mere chance. We begin to understand that there is a connection between our psyche and the physical world.

So the next time you think gosh that was a coincidence, perhaps it was not so coincidental after all – look into it a bit further and see if there is a message in there for you.  Synchronicity urges you to become more in touch more receptive and also offers hope and guidance

Who do we think we are?

For the past two days I have been knee deep in genealogy researching my family tree.  This has not been an easy task particularly as my Mum was given away in a pub at 3 weeks old!

My Mum was born in January 1943 during World War 2.  She was born in Priory Mount Hospital, Haverfordwest on 8th January (however records at the public records office state she was born on 7th January).  She was abandoned by her mother and left with a lady she had befriended, the landlady at the Horse & Jockey pub in Steynton.   When the landlady shared her plight with one of her regulars he returned home and told his wife.  He was promptly sent him back to retrieve the small baby.  She remained with this kind elderly couple for the rest of her childhood oblivious to the fact that she wasn’t their real daughter, that is until she was about seven and a spiteful child in school told her that the woman she believed was her mother was not her real mother at all.

It is hard to comprehend how it must feel to not know where you come from.  I would imagine that adopted children face similar challenges but as nothing was formally legalised her foster mother faced the insecurity  that my Mum maybe collected by her birth mother at any time.  This never happened, but my mum recalls her foster mother crying when a box of expensive clothes was left on their doorstep when she was about 7 years old.  She believes these clothes may have come from her real mother but that has never been proven.

We had very little to go on but we did have her birth certificate.

Her mothers name is given as Margaret Clark and her fathers as John Clark with an army number which doesn’t seem to exist.  So we had very little to go on.

Some years ago we did some research into Margaret Clark, believing her to be from this area but drew a blank and the search was aborted.  However, yesterday I came across my mothers birth certificate again and decided to start from another angle.  We assumed that John Clark was probably not my mothers birth father but as he was married to Margaret I started to research him using the address in Penarth that appeared on the birth certificate.

I found an obituary on Google for a man named Alfred George Hedley Clark who lived in Westbourne Road, Penarth in 1935. He had a son named Alfred George Clark who I discovered married a Sybil M Rees in 1935.  Parts of the jigsaw started to piece together.  It now seems that John Clark was in fact Alfred and Margaret’s first name was Sybil. Further research into Sybil’s background gave the names of her parents Eleazer and Catherine Rees from Llansamlet. Suddenly I had quite possibly discovered a grandmother, and great grandparents, a great aunt and quite possibly cousins I had never heard of.

We now think Mum may have a sister who was born 3 years before her called Patricia and next week we are travelling to Penarth to mooch around graveyards, call at the house in Westbourne Avenue.  There are still some important questions left to answer and we’re not sure if anyone has them.  Why was she abandoned at 3 weeks old?  Why was she born in Haverfordwest?  Is Alfred her real father?  Does she have any siblings?

Or, have I opened a can of worms?????  

Selling up

I’m selling my home.  It’s a case of having to.  Financially I cannot hold onto it anymore.  It is the house I have lived in for the first 23 years of my life and the latter 14.  It’s been in my family for over fifty years.

The prospective sellers instructed a surveyor to come around to check the property over yesterday, probably with a mind to knock me down a few more thousand pounds.

When the surveyor asked me how long I had lived in the house and I told him my family had lived there for around fifty years he asked me is that when the house was built! Well to me it is glaringly obvious the house is old, very old and that didn’t instill in me the greatest faith in this surveyor. When he went around doing his business it felt to me like he was prying trying to find fault with my lovely house and that annoyed and upset me.

What would he see?  I can guess he would see the tile that needs replacing on the slated roof.  He would probably also notice that the wiring would need updating after circuit upon circuit was added when the house was extended bit by bit to meet the needs of a growing family.

I bet he’d notice that the dining room ceiling had little damp spots where the water would run through from the above shower if the kids didn’t put the shower curtain in place properly when languishing idly in the shower not washing but just standing under the hot water.

He probably noticed that the loft still housed the original roof which my Dad didn’t bother knocking down when he raised the roof, after all it added more insulation.

I wonder though if he noticed the loving and charismatic feel of the cottage.  The feel of welcoming arms holding you and drawing you into its lovely atmosphere?  I wonder if he’d notice the old wooden beams and that my Dad had painstakingly added an additional beam between every existing one chipping each strip of wood by hand to resemble the older ones.  Would he notice the wooden windows which I helped my Dad to make and fit. Each handmade and not quite the same as the other.  I wonder if he’d notice that one of the children had written ‘Dewi can’t see this’ high above a shelf in crayon (Dewi being my youngest and therefore smallest at the time) and I didn’t have the heart to paint over.  I wonder if he’d notice that in the upstairs bedroom the tiny piece of wallpaper I left behind the fitted wardrobe was the wallpaper on the room when my Aunty and Uncle lived there before my Mum and Dad?

Would he notice the big old stone fireplace with hooks to hang on the meat that we discovered behind a piece of ply?  Would he notice that the wood going up the stairs was original shiplap from boats and placed there in the 18th Century.

Would he know that visitors to the house would always comment on ‘the lovely feel’ of the house. Would he know that I once had a book dedicated to my house called ‘One for Rose Cottage’?  Would he know that old school friends still want to come back to visit just to see the house?

I doubt it.  I can imagine that he would just see work that needs to be done and hundreds or maybe thousands that could be knocked off the agreed the selling price.  

So prospective buyers when you come back to me with your multi-paged extensive surveyors report asking for a reduction in the price, I will tell you I won’t be dropping the price for any additional work required because as far as I’m concerned you are getting more than bricks and mortar for your money.  You are getting a house with a heart and soul……….. and that’s pretty much priceless!

And she’s off!

Last week I said goodbye to my daughter Bethan as she flew off to Dubai to start her new life.  Little did I realise when she was growing up that it would be so easy for me to let her go. Okay I suppose I really let her go the day she started University.  I knew then that things would change and that my little girl was flying the nest.

Me, Beth and her Dad at her graduation.

Now 5 years later she is leaving for another country and I’m happy for her.  Me?  The clingy, neurotic, worrying Mum she would despair of for phoning countless times on her teenage nights out to check she was okay. The Mum who drove around Tenby trying to find her when she didn’t answer her phone.  Me?  The mum who took her to hospital not once but twice when she was so drunk she couldn’t talk or walk when other mothers would have put their offspring in a cold shower and laughed it off in the morning.

And now here I am waving her off albeit a little tearfully to Dubai.  Of course, there’s Skype.  What a wonderful invention.  I can talk to her when she’s sitting in her hotel bedroom eating her pot noodle and talk about her day and it’s as if we are in the same room.  

Then of course there’s the month I’m planning to spend with her in January.  Boy, will she be sick of me then!   Though I’m not completely over my neurosis, when she didn’t respond even though Facebook said she was active on landing in Dubai I did think she had been abducted, mugged or worse and spent a fraught hour waiting for a message.  (Should never have watched Taken!)  But at the end of the day I am a Mum and that comes with the territory.

But all in all I’m happy for her.  Proud of her too, obviously.  But what a life she will have. London for all its glamour seems like a third world country compared to Dubai. Horrendous journeys on the train and tube to work, we wouldn’t treat animals like that.  Now it’s brunch at the Ivy, volley ball on the beach after work in November,and they have Bentley’s for taxis.  Now come on…..that takes some beating!

Dubai Marina

Good on you Beth!  If I was twenty years younger……….but then at that time I was far too busy being a neurotic mother!

Me and Bethan