I have always been fascinated by so-called coincidences and
signs that seem to arrive at just the right time. Of course, when something is
on our mind a lot, we are bound to notice it more when it seems to pop up
randomly everywhere. But I firmly believe that the energy of our thoughts has
the ability to attract similar energies - see quantum physics (though I am wary of some of the rather
arrogant Law of Attraction claims - that we can manifest anything and if we
don’t, it’s our own fault).
Ever since I started Joe Dispenza’s meditations, I have been
acutely aware of signs and synchronicities and attuned to their presence; he
talks about it a lot, and some of his meditations include actively choosing an
object or animal or symbol and waiting to see whether it appears in your life
shortly after (there are some incredible testimonials on Youtube about this).
And too much has happened in my own life than can be explained away
rationally. Here are just four examples that hold special meaning for me:
Kaleidoscopes // At the end of 2019 I had been doing Joe
Dispenza’s kaleidoscope meditations, including a live stream. They required you
to keep your eyes open and gaze into kaleidoscopic patterns in order to get
into a trance.
Then, when I travelled to Germany for Christmas, my aunt
told me that the museum she volunteers in had an exhibition of…
kaleidoscopes! I had never seen the elaborate machines before and had only been
familiar with the handheld ones we had as kids. So kaleidoscopes had not really featured in my life, and suddenly I found myself in a museum in my
hometown surrounded by them, in the wake of doing kaleidoscope meditations.
The lost diamond // Another thing happened around the time I
returned to work following my cancer treatment: I lost the middle
diamond on my engagement ring on one of the first days I was out and about in
the world again. I had been in work and passed
through a lot of places on campus; I had run several errands, so would have visited
shops, walked around town, etc.; I had been pottering around the house and out in
the garden. So when I looked down at the dashboard while
driving home and spotted the empty part of the ring on my hand, I knew there were numerous places I could have lost it.
A couple of days later I was teaching my Saturday class. At
one point I told one of the women about the lost diamond. After my students had left, I tidied and locked
up, but then I suddenly remembered that the
cleaners would be in before Monday and felt I should at least spend some time searching the room. A tiny diamond in the art room was akin to
the proverbial needle in a haystack – the room and store room were far from
tidy (a lot of the groups that use the room leave out their stuff). That week
there must have been crafts activities, as the dirt on the paint-splattered
floor included glitter and, of all things, the odd plastic diamond! So when,
after seconds of scanning the floor, my eyes fell on a shiny diamond in the spot
where I had been standing telling my story to that woman, I
thought it was one of the fake diamonds. But closer inspection revealed that it
had the exact right shape, and it sparkled in a way that the plastic ones
didn’t. I couldn’t believe it.
I took it to the jeweller’s John had bought
it from, and he showed me that a tiny chunk had broken off – something that can happen when you knock the ring against a hard
surface. Because it was the part of the diamond that was set into the ring, he was able
to put it back in securely, and the damage is not visible.
John had chosen the ring because he liked the idea of the three stones
symbolising the three sisters, in addition to the other meanings. I am the
middle sister, so when he found out about the broken middle diamond, he said it
was me with part of my lung removed, but still here and stronger than before.
---
Dog’s nose // In February 2020 I had another respiratory infection (a souvenir from the cancer treatment - I had had several
bouts of those, sitting up at night coughing, but this was one of the hardest
ones to shake) and was feeling low; it was one of those times when the weight
of my diagnosis hit me. We were dogsitting for our neighbours that week. A few
days before that I had found a postcard on the floor of the car with a black
dog’s nose and a dragonfly on it. It must have fallen out of the bag of images
that I usually keep in the art room but had taken home for another class – a
mixture of cuttings from magazines, cards, calendar photos, etc. for
inspiration. Now I found myself crying
in the kitchen, and the dog came up to me and put her head on my lap. The rest
of her was hidden by the table, so looking down I could only see her nose, and
it looked exactly like the dog’s nose on the card that had been in the car.
---
Ladybirds // My talisman has always been
the ladybird. After my diagnosis,
my younger sister started sending me ladybird-themed things, including a book
she created with contributions from friends and family in Germany that she had
glued a wooden ladybird on. Because of those gestures of hers, I had been thinking of ladybirds and willing them to appear when
we watched an episode of ‘The Good Place’ - and lo and behold, in that episode giant ladybirds
were falling from the sky in the afterlife. It was like the Universe was giving me an
unmistakeable sign.
And they continued to show up in unexpected ways, both here and in my sister's world. And it extended further - one day I had coffee with a friend and told her about the
ladybirds, and later that day she sent me a photo: she had got home and found a ladybird earring at the bottom of her handbag that she had no recollection
of putting in there.
[About a year ago I submitted a much shorter version of this to Agradecida y Poderosa
(a young woman who had stage IV cancer and posts about healing and her
lifestyle – I found her through our shared interests in complementary therapies)
for her series ‘Tu poderosa historia’ on Instagram. There are a lot of similar stories by other patients (all in Spanish).]
