When the world sends symbols. Or you just start paying attention.

Strange things have been happening. Not so strange I feel like I need to call Peter Venkman, Raymond Stantz and Egon Spengler (not forgetting Winston Zeddemore). But, still, strange enough to make me sit up.

Strange things have been happening

Not so strange I feel like I need to call Peter Venkman, Raymond Stantz and Egon Spengler (not forgetting Winston Zeddemore). For those not in the know – The Ghostbusters. But, still, they’ve been strange enough to make me wonder.

Cherry Blossom


This is a short blog post and barely has any message at all, other than to say I’ve been noticing coincidences a lot more lately. Symbols, even. Of what, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just more awake and noticing things a lot more now that I have moved abroad and I’m trying new things in life. I have no idea.

The symbols we see or that we’re sent

I’ve always been someone willing to believe in anything science can’t explain. G-d (yes, I spell it that way), the healing powers of meditation, acupuncture, even hypnotherapy (my amazing sister in Paris is a trained hypnotherapist, and one day I must let her work her magic on me).

I always hated the work of Richard Dawkins, who effectively turns rationalism into a religion of its own.

If science can’t explain something definitively doesn’t exist, like ghosts or extraterrestrial life, then I’m willing to suspend judgement.

Infinite possibilities of childhoodBut what about the symbols and everyday examples of coincidence or déjà vu that we experience? Are they worthless? Are they our unconscious speaking? Again, I’ve no idea. It’s worth at least ‘suspending judgement’.

Since January, I have been noticing many more of these – almost magical – instances of coincidence and happenstance.

James Taylor and Summer Madness

Let me share some recent examples.

A few weeks ago, I was a bit down. I will soon write a blog-post about ‘losing our way’. Anyway, I was taken back to a time when I was sat in my Dad’s car, a few months after Mum passed, and Dad had this habit of tuning into London’s most depressing radio stations. Smooth FM. Magic FM. Heart FM. Every night he’d play them and every night we’d invariably hear the same saccharine songs, which to be fair, struck a chord. But they hardly helped us escape our pit.

And James Taylor was one of the musicians whose songs, specialities in sadness, often used to come on.

I was writing my Dad an email asking a few things that felt quite key to our relationship and I was in a cab on the way from Gatwick to Liverpool (long story) and all of a sudden, James Taylor came on. Okay, that’s hardly spooky.

Bear with me! A couple of weeks ago I was on the second module of the coaching course I am undertaking. I had to run through an exercise with a partner so we could think of a song or any image in fact that relaxes us, or that helps to centre us when things around us aren’t calm. All of a sudden, I was thinking of walking through Regents Park to the backdrop of Kool and the Gang’s ‘Summer Madness’. And lo and behold, twenty or so seconds later, one of the course instructors started playing the song from a hall – not near enough for her to have overheard our conversation. Mmmm…


I was starting to feel more at ease with the training when I was partnered with a wonderful Italian woman who immediately relaxed me with her soft voice. That Italian tilt to her voice that sounds like the wind through the trees. She reminded me of a wonderful family friend of ours’ – Dani – who now lives abroad. Who had the same warm presence. Hardly a coincidence. But, still…

I feel more tuned into the positive things and sometimes also the negative influences that resonate and reconnect me to past memories.

Hardly spooky

Yesterday, my partner and I randomly talked about Minnesota. G-d knows why. Today, at breakfast, after gossiping about a group of Americans who were being a tad demanding to a waitress, the couple next to us informed us they were American (kindly). From Minnesota, no less. This afternoon, I saw an image of my friend wearing a t-shirt. From Minnesota.

Yesterday, I was having a coaching session, practising coaching with someone. They highlighted a goal – an ideal outlet for their creativity. The very same thing they wanted to create then appeared on the very next table next to us.

I often see women who look like a younger version of my Grandma.

I sometimes see the bouffant hairstyle of my Dad and wonder what he’s doing in either Marrakech or Barcelona.

I’m convinced Tottenham (Spurs) only win football matches when I don’t tune in or give a damn.

But then, this is all silly crap, right.

I mean, we have all experienced that moment when we take a jacket off because we feel the hot sunshine, and the moment we do, the clouds cover the sun. It’s hardly us – little old me – that the world or the weather’s sending a message to!

Or is it…!!!

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