It has been an interesting week or so, because I've experienced several very small synchronicities. Not large, stunning synchronicities (happening upon someone who says, "I have the perfect longterm housing for you, nearly free for the rest of your life!" ) but the kind that gets your attention. Two-and-a-half years ago, I included "synchronicity" in my list of Goddess words...clearly synchronicity is a right-brain quality that is a beautiful way of receiving communication from the Divine. It is a lens to seeing things differently, a way of learning quickly, not slowly and step-by-step.
About a week ago, I took part in a game of Scrabble. Someone wasn't sure if the word "dint" was really a word, and I assured them that it was (and of course, a quick check online confirmed this). But it wasn't a word I had heard or read often in the past. So, what a surprise -- "dint" has shown up in two different fiction books I've read in the last few days! (In both cases, a character was able to do something "by dint of" some qualification or experience.) I didn't really take a deeper meaning or message from this synchronicity, but it caught my attention.
Peter Tremayne's Bloodmoon, one of the Sister Fidelma mysteries, was on this same reading list. I took the book out of the library before I found out about this morning's blood moon (total lunar eclipse turning the moon a coppery red during its totality). Blood moons have often been seen as symbols of change and renewal; having the image show up in life in two different ways was noteworthy. I'm sorry to say that I didn't wake up at 2:30 this morning to see the remarkable phenomenon in person, but yesterday felt like a watershed to me in certain other respects, so I add it to my belief that we are in the midst of a time of rebirth. All of us are potentially being reborn.
Synchronicity three. For the last week or so, I was surprised that, after a period of seeing hawks and eagles at least every other day, these raptors seemed to have disappeared. Yesterday, literally seconds after I was mulling this over, a bird flew by the house. At first I wasn't sure what it was, because it was smaller than the hawks I have been seeing. But after a close look at my bird book, I identified it as a "sharp-shinned" hawk. They are smaller than the more common red-tailed hawk, their chests are rust-colored, and their tails (from the side or below) seem longer and squarer, not fanned out in a semi-circle. Again, perhaps there is no deep meaning behind the timing of this moment, except that it gave me the chance to learn more about hawks -- and, hey, it is satisfying to think, "I'm not seeing as many hawks", then a hawk flies by. It gives you the feeling that the Universe is on your side, that somehow you are a part of a big, inclusive net, the Love of the Universe.
