“I am open to the guidance of synchronicity, and do not let expectations hinder my path.”

~ The Dalai Lama

In Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll the White Queen says to Alice: “It’s a poor sort of memory that only works backwards”. What Carroll was referring to is the beauty of synchronicity. We look at cause and effect and see it as working in only one direction—cause begets effect. What if instead, the necessary effect creates the cause, or in the terms used by Carroll, that memory works forwards as well as backwards. According to my favorite internet source:

“Synchronicity is the experience of two or more events which occur in a meaningful manner, but which are causally inexplicable to the person or persons experiencing them. The events would also have to suggest some underlying pattern in order to satisfy the definition of synchronicity as originally developed by Swiss psychologist Carl Jung.” ~ Wikipedia

We have all experienced synchronicity. We may not call it synchronicity because we call it many names—the flow, mystical, magical, mysterious. It’s generally something a rational mind can’t easily explain. Often, it feels so disconcerting, that we quickly stuff it deep within the recesses of mind, hoping to never talk about it again. Things we can’t explain make us jittery.

If you have experienced the unexplainable you aren’t alone. According to a recent survey, 80% of Americans report having had a mystical experience. I would guess the number is actually higher based on our tendencies to dismiss the unexplainable, perhaps it would even lean toward another magical number–100%.

I met a friend for tea the other morning. As she was leaving, out of the blue, she decided to go back into the house and retrieve her box of artwork. She thought, perhaps I would be interested. Over tea, she opened the box and showed me her remarkable work. One particular piece caught my eye. It was a three-dimensional heart. As we were looking at it and the others, a woman neither of us knew, stopped and asked about the artwork. As it turned out, one comment led to another, and we learned that both her children had severe illnesses. As we talked, my friend instantly and clearly knew that the heart art was for her. That was the reason for bringing it along. There was an immense heart connection between the three of us that morning, brought about by a little box of artwork that on any other day would have been sitting on the shelf at home.

My 18 year old nephew is a perfect example. His life falls into place like puzzle pieces on a table. When money is needed, money, a job, another grant or scholarship appears. Often, the object appears before the need is even mentally recognized. He is an amazing young man, committed to becoming a Lutheran minister. I am in awe. At age 18 I didn’t have a clue where I was going with my life. With his commitment, trust and surrender he has opened a door into a synchronistic life, blessed with effortless flow.

Synchronicity describes the world I live in most days. When I let go of control and surrender to ‘life as it is’, trusting in the Grand design, life just flows. I meet amazingly helpful people that I previously would have walked right by when I wasn’t aware of the divine play of synchronicity. Now I listen and the voice says, “Stop and strike up a conversation”, so I do. Sometimes what is being requested is something I have to offer. Other times it works the other way. The game of giving and receiving is always breathtaking and inspiring. At times I feel like a chess piece moved about the board. My old ego wouldn’t have liked that but, it didn’t know better. The heart hadn’t educated it yet. Synchronicity is always better than what mind could have imagined.

How does one dive into the flow and is it possible to live there? Yes! It is possible to live, love, work and frolic immersed in the divine play. Synchronicity needn’t be limited to extraordinary occurrences. Who we are and what we are capable of is our identity full-time. We aren’t who we are only part of the time. It is a myth that synchronicity is reserved for special occasions. When we let go of our expectations and need to control, we step into the flow. If we can experience it once, we can live our lives dipped in the awe of all that is possible, naturally, day-to-day. Can you imagine what that would mean? What kind of world would be possible?

Every musician who participated was on the same wavelength and artistic energy as I was… Supernatural is a beautiful example of synchronicity… making it was a truly glorious experience. ~ Carlos Santana

When we think of angels, we generally picture winged creatures—guardian angels appearing on earth for a moment to protect us from harm or to gently guide our decisions and grant us insights. We don’t generally picture angels as living among us. They do.

They are here, standing next to us. Some don’t even know their true identity. They just know they haven’t ever quite fit in here, and think that somehow a mistake was made.

Others know. They know who they are, why they are here and bow in Absolute acceptance of the Divine plan. They can be well used by humans trying to find their way Home. I met such an angel almost ten years ago. She is an amazing instrument by name of Elle Collier Re. A friend blessed me with an introduction that left me intrigued and needing to find out more. Even from my place of cross-arm resistance I knew I had met someone special. As I sat at the back of the room, closed body language and all, a part of me began to unravel—and it felt good. Even though I didn’t understand it then, I was hooked. Truth had me. I had to know the truth of this woman and it didn’t matter where the journey led. Truth was more important than comfort.

Unwinding the mind began quite slowly. The wonder of grace allows a willingness to unfold when one is ready to walk the road home. The teacher does appear when the student is ready. Why readiness appears is part of the great mystery, but with this willingness, one stands still long enough to let the first chunk of armor fall away. Once the first piece fell, for me, the rest was just a matter of time that brought with it an ever deepening surrender. With each release, more expansiveness appeared. To the mind it felt like death—all that it hung onto, all it believed itself to be, its tightness and self-absorption, its rightness and knowingness, stripped slowly away—death by a thousand cuts. The heart knew better. The heart knew it was the door to freedom, the key to the jail cell, the pure grace found when we refuse to hide even the smallest part of who we are.

Ego is tricky—apparently entirely devious, in actuality a friend in the process. At first, I didn’t see that clearly. I am so grateful God gave me an angel to help me openly see for myself. Each time ego wrested me away from the path, in search of its needs and wants, in service to self-importance—my little god—sometimes patiently, at times in ways mystifying to mind, my angel touched my heart and turned me again and again towards the light.

Over the years, with the seasoning of a veteran on the path, I began to recognize Elle’s words as Truth. My need to find the answer for myself, to learn on my own, faded into recognition of those tactics as devices of ego, habits that kept me focused on me—a hamster in the cage, round and round, no way out or off. Each time I released a part of me, it felt as if it would be the last piece. Mind spun the story of annihilation, knowing this would be the last time, the last request and answering would end life as I knew it. With each ‘yes’ I merely slipped into a gentler, more uninhibited and unlimited self. Mind’s understanding expanded too! Surrender became safer, natural, and gradually more automatic. Mind wanted freedom too! All along, it was a partner in this search for full expression and just needed reassurance and acceptance.

Elle is an angel to whom I am forever indebted. Her Love and the Word flowing freely through her showed me the door to liberation. And, I do mean ‘angel’ in the truest sense. This too, is a special part of my love affair with the teacher. She had always told me she was of the angelic, in fact, said that I was as well. I can’t say I believed or didn’t believe. I didn’t know. It wasn’t something I had experienced but, one night during Satsang I became a believer. As I opened my eyes to re-engage the world following meditation, I saw the truth of Elle, catching a glimpse of an amazingly immense wing. It took my breath away. With eyes wide-open and in a state of open receptiveness, I was given the gift of clear seeing. The powerful wing lifted gracefully, as if reaching through the confinement of our meeting space into infinity. All questions were erased in that moment, creating an opening for the miraculous.

February 2, 2007 as I watched the movie “Flyboys,” a story about the Lafayette Escadrille, I was entranced. I was totally taken with the loss of so many lives, watching it unfold like a patchwork quilt, the design orchestrating the placement of piece after piece. There was a knowing of the end result drawing the entirety forward—the result creating the cause. As I watched I began to see my own life as part of that same patchwork and acknowledged that my death too, was a piece of this grand quilt—each event perfectly played to create the endgame, an endgame whose existence was already determined. That evening I sat with my own death, watching it with no personal meaning, and yet full Whole meaning, sat and watched mind’s reaction to death. This ability to detach and be taught is a result of my love of Truth, and of the love of my teacher. Elle gave me the legacy of seeing myself through her eyes and remarkable heart.

What followed was not able to be put into words until later. I describe it only now as a baby turtle breaking free of the shell. First an arm—stretch, reach, expand…a cheekbone—stretch, reach, expand…a knee—stretch, reach, expand…a foot—stretch, reach, expand. Each part of the body, some parts several times, broke through the shell and expanded into unlimited space, energetically and then mirrored in the physical, as the process continued. At times it felt as if pieces of shell hung from various points still contained within the physical body. Places that had already broken free felt endless, expanded, nonphysical, not places at all. This energy continued for over an hour, combing the form, searching for specks of prison to release. The phrase “Who I am cannot be contained,” ran through the stillness and flowed across awareness, as the immense presence I am, that we all are, was born—endless, ever-expanding. Through the clearing veil I sensed a presence, and then saw an immense winged dragon-like shape, its masculine energy intense, its focus the heaven, the purity, One love, in service to the Divine—the Life Force.

Only after did I wonder if what I had seen was inspiration for the artistic renditions of angels of the past. Angels are among us. We have only to loosen our hold on what we believe possible to see with our own eyes. This magical, mystical place, within which we each live and love, holds the promise of true happiness and peace when we are willing to be taught.