In blogging about synchronicity for more than 10 years now, we’ve gotten some wonderful stories that illustrate how synchronicity works under numerous types of conditions and situations. The experience that Nancy Atkinson relates occurred to her daughter. It may be one of those archetypal synchronicities that’s ore common than we realize.
“My daughter had a weird experience yesterday – she has to drive about 28 miles to work each day in a neighboring town. She also been struggling with whether or not to have a child, or to just continue teaching her special-needs students, who depend on her so much. Her thoughts were how could she possibly commute to work and also have a child, in that the hours away from said child would be too much.
“All of a sudden a big piece of plastic blew unto her windshield and totally obstructed her view! She was traveling 70 miles per hour down the freeway! Somehow she managed to get the car to the side of the road without an accident and, totally shaken to the core, went to open the door to pull off the plastic, when it blew away and across the medium and other side of the freeway.
“Just two nights ago I felt the need to send a prayer for protection for her. As a teacher in a difficult school, I often feel as though my daughter is working in a war zone. Anyway, I know the plastic had something to do with clarity, as she was totally unable to see the road for some time. Not sure how to read it it. She thinks it was the Universe’s way of saying, “No way! you can’t commute and be okay with having a child!” What do you think?”
My response: “Wow, Nancy. A seemingly random piece of plastic hits her windshield, totally obstructing her view, while she’s thinking about whether to have a child. Maybe it could mean she’s not seeing the bigger picture, which could pose some risk to her? Or, perhaps her best course is to “pull to the side of the road” – let the idea go for now, sit on it. Powerful synchro regardless. I’m glad she had the presence of mind to pull over.”
Then I started thinking about this synchronicity and wondered how many people had similar experiences when facing a choice. And I realized I’d experienced something like this when I was in my late twenties.
I was on my first solo cross country flight for my private pilot’s license in a Cessna that looks like the one above. I was en route from Vero Beach to Lake Okeechobee or Belle Glade, can’t remember which. I’d bee in the air long enough to reach altitude when oil suddenly covered my windshield. I turned on the wipers, which only smeared the oil everywhere.
I called the closest tower and asked for help. The controller I spoke to diagnosed the problem immediately: the engine had blown a gasket. He advised me to fly by instruments to the nearest airport and use the side window for visuals. I don’t think I’ve ever been so terrified, but I didn’t panic. You can’t afford to panic when you’re flying solo in a plane with oil smeared across your windshield.
I landed safely, but that was pretty much the end of my flying.
The difference between my experience and that of Nancy’s daughter was that I wasn’t thinking about any big choices I was facing. I was just excited to finally be on my first solo. But the event itself seemed straightforward. When your vision is obstructed, it’s difficult to make good decisions. It’s time to take a breather, set things aside, come back to it later.
I suspect this type of synchro manifests itself in many different ways.