Since childhood I have been guided by my inner prompting, even though at times I have felt quite ridiculous. “You and your bloody signs!... Hearing voices again, are we?” I am not one to follow in the momentum of the masses. Once I remember, in a maths lesson at my primary school, we were learning about probabilities. The teacher had given us the chore of counting out aloud the numbers of swings made by a pendulum, which was dangling from a piece of string tied to a beam on the ceiling. As we fixed our gaze on the swinging object the classroom hummed with the sound of our voices. I noticed that my classmates’ robotic counting did not tally with the number of actual pendulum swings. So, hesitantly, I pointed out the discrepancy. Much to everyone’s disappointment, the teacher ordered a recount. However, the same thing happened again the second and even third time. I was so embarrassed to be the cause of such an inconvenience but I insisted that the pendulum be watched more closely. By now everyone was bored and frustrated by all the recounting so the teacher decided to accept the total sum of swings offered by the majority.
Recently I noticed an abundance of seagull signs. Flocks of screeching seagulls were flying around my block of flats for no apparent reason. A strange omen as I live in an area surrounded by bustling crowds, busy with shops and a constant flow of traffic. Usually, the only commonly heard screeching is that of the police siren. I felt quite sure I was being given a sign so I searched out the meaning in my book of signs and symbols where I came across the name Jonathan Seagull. I later found out that this was a book written in the early seventies by the author Richard Bach. Then, having bravely followed up an urge to join a creative writing class, I found my first homework assignment was producing a short story or poem about a picture of a seagull. Intrigued by the whole seagull situation I was driven to buy the Livingston book and found myself laughing and crying at the very depth of its beauty. The seagull in the book represented the willingness and daring to try new things, to push past the boundaries and have the courage to follow one’s own path. Perhaps that was my lesson. Was I being shown that ‘who dares wins’?
Joanna, a friend of mine, was eager to start a project, long in the pipeline. In order to guarantee a successful result she consulted several divining oracles only to be told ‘patience’ over and over again. Then, one day, while out shopping, she bumped into a family friend who had just had a baby girl. “What a lovely baby!” she cooed. “And what’s her name then?” Imagine her surprise when the mum proudly announced “Patience”. This was not what Joanna wanted to hear. Which brings me to the question of what happens when we resist our inner nudges? I am reminded of the urban myth where a man is trapped on his roof trying to avoid a horrific flood. In desperation he cries out to God to save him. Expecting God to save him personally he ignores three offers of assistance from two rescue boats and a helicopter. To his detriment he is washed away and drowned. Bewildered when he finds himself in heaven facing God, he questions what went wrong. He is told that he drowned because he refused to accept the three offers of help. Sometimes we go through a sort of Ground hog day syndrome where we step onto a merry-go-round situation acting out the same old problems until we follow the right signs and have a successful or pleasing outcome. Sometimes we never seem to get it right and we can hear the little voice in our head screaming, “Stop! I want to get off”>
One of the best examples of successful synchronicities has to be the story of Doreen Virtue, a lady who lectures and holds workshops on Angels. At one of her seminars she was recounting how she had met her current husband. After her divorce her work kept her extremely busy and she had no time for socialising. She decided to write a letter to the angels of soul mates to help her find a perfect partner and listed all the fine qualities he should possess. There after she kept getting messages about ‘yoga’, which she would continually ignore. She did not like the idea of meditation or stretching exercises at all. However, after being constantly bombarded with yoga messages every time she opened a newspaper, talked to someone, or switched on the radio, she relented and enrolled for yoga. Attending one of the classes she was laying on the floor, eyes closed, in the spinal twist position when her fingers accidentally brushed those of another yoga student. She partially opened her eyes to see a most handsome man lying next to her. At the end of the lesson they got chatting and became friends. Eventually, after a few more yoga lessons, they went out for a meal where they got to know each other better. It turned out that they had grown up in the same street, a few houses apart. In fact he remembered that, from the age of seven, Doreen had had a crush on him. The coincidences came fast and furious. They had moved house and married other people at around the same time. They had the same number of children, got promotions and even divorced their previous partners within months of each other. So it was not long after that these two got together on a more permanent basis and finally married.
Having attended numerous spiritual workshops and courses, endeavouring to find the ‘meaning of life’ and the role I play, I have come to realise my vocation in life is to be a healer of sorts. This has made me much more aware and empathic to other people and situations; so following signs is just a part of my spiritual awareness. A great deal of my signs have been connected to the written word, either finding myself drawn to a particular book for no apparent reason or being inspired to write myself. One of my most recent book finds has been ‘My Turn to Make the Tea’ by Monica Dickens, which I bought in a charity shop for a few pennies. I was drawn by the magic of the old worn dust cover, it mentions that the book was printed in Tonbridge and I was born in Tonbridge, Kent. Then I found out that Monica was the great-grand daughter of Charles Dickens. In this book, Monica recounts her experiences of working for a local newspaper, The Downingham Post. I was intrigued to read how many times she had written out one particular article before she felt it was ready for printing. This has certainly encouraged me, as I sit here rewriting this article for the zillionth time! And what would you think if I said that not only was she a writer but also a healer? I later discovered that Monica Dickens was close friends of the Samaritan’ founder Chad Varah, and she, eventually, founded the Samaritans in the USA! I was unaware of all these things when I first picked up the book. I was just amazed by all the synchronicities. You see, my idea of being a healer is a ‘lying on of the hands’. However, the universe may be showing me other more workable ideas of how I should do my healing. The power to heal or destroy has always been present in the written word. Think of Shakespeare…the spear shaker… holding up his spear towards the heavens, letting it charge up with inspirational energy and wisdom; and then using it to write up the words that could pierce your heart with joy or wound it deep with sorrow. Perhaps I could be a ‘spear shaker’ too. Could this be my message from the universe? I would certainly need to write a book to list the numerous signals and synchronicities in my life so far. Although, I am sure, they have led me to a better understanding of others and myself. If anything, the sequence of coincidences peppering my path has certainly made my life more interesting. To paraphrase something St Augustine said, the greatest good is wisdom, and if following my ‘crazy’ signs leads me to a greater wisdom then I do not care how foolish I may seem in the eyes of anyone else!
October 28th 2002
In Love and Light
Frida Maria
