It’s been another rough week. People say “finally Friday”, but when you own your own business, and it’s struggling, the 5 o’clock whistle on Friday doesn’t bring any real relief. I usually sleep very well. This week I’ve been waking up around 5 AM ready to go. Let’s try something else. Nothing I try bears any fruit. Every time it seems there is an opportunity either it doesn’t pan out, or the partner I’m supposed to work with goes away. I have a session with my intuition/mediumship tutor today. These people keep telling me happy days are around the corner. The lessons I’m taking say life is supposed to flow. I’m not up for trying to tap into Spirit today. I’m exhausted and frustrated.  She reads me and tells me I’m flooded with ideas and running in all directions at once which is spot on accurate. I don’t know which way to go. She tells me that we have to trust the flow, that Spirit will take care of us. We have to trust the process. I assent to all of this. OK. I’ll try.  I take this with me through the rest of the day.

Just as I’m calling it a day and trying to unwind, I get an email from my development team.  Of course, 4:30 on a Friday and there’s a problem with the integration of our email and our store.  The email vendor’s technical support isn’t answering. I’m checking the dashboard trying to get a fix, and I see our numbers for the last month. I try not to look at the numbers. I keep my head down and keep pressing on. The last 30 days haven’t gotten any better despite massive efforts, bringing on new partners, and infusions of cash. This is not what I wanted to be thinking about going into the weekend. They say when one door, another one opens. However, sometimes you’re in the hallway, and all the other doors are still closed. I’m tired of living in the hallway. It’s hell in the hallway. Come on guides. How much more patience do I have to learn?  I’ve got to work tomorrow.  It’s Saturday and I’ve got company coming in from out of town. I can get in a few hours in the morning though. At least I need to bang out some emails.

Tonight, we’re going out with friends to the big Greek festival.  It’s been raining or threatening rain almost all day.  It’s a decent drive to get there. I do not want to go. It’s probably going to rain.  I know it’s going to rain.  Why bother? I’m in a foul mood, the nastiest. I really just want to be alone. I should be alone because I’m not fit to be around people. But, there’s no getting out of this. They all want to go, and we’re traveling to get there.  I’ll probably have a panic attack I’m thinking.  There will be a big crowd. I’m not driving. I can’t leave when I want. I don’t want to go to the festival. I don’t want to be anywhere. I want to go Home. I am done.

A friend made a very simple post on Facebook. She’s going through a hard time.  Many of us are.  Her post was simple. “I. Am. So. Fucking. Tired.”  I replied with two words. “I understand”.  This place is hard, and some of us feel a weariness that cannot be overcome with mere sleep.  I’ve heard it said that our souls don’t need to sleep. But, I’ve also heard it said they do need to escape this world. We’d go insane if we couldn’t sleep. That is a medical fact.  I think our souls need that time back Home every night.

As we’re making the drive to the festival, the other people in the car are just chatting away. Everything they say irritates me. I reflect on this. I can’t snap at them based on what’s going on in my head. They’re saying the same things they always say, laughing, having a good time, looking forward to a night out. This is all on me. I’m not even in the car. I’m somewhere else, living in the future, under a bridge.  I’ve got to snap out of this.

We get to the festival and meet up with the other carload of people. The clouds have broken, the sun is peeking through.  The weather is pleasant. I guess the threat of rain has kept people away. It’s a massive festival, but it’s not super crowded. However, because whenever you have eight people going anywhere, we’re over an hour past my normal dinner time and I’m hangry.  As we park blocks away to save money, make our way through the crowds to check in, stop to go to the bathroom (Didn’t we just leave home?) I’m trying to be patient. OK. So, now they’ve gone to the bathroom. We’ve hit the ATM. We’ve made the walk. Someone asks “Do you want to look around some or do you want to eat?”  I say, as patiently as I can muster. “I’m ready to eat.”

I get a gyro. It’s delicious, stuffed with the most lamb I’ve ever had on a gyro. They sell bottles of wine at the festival. I get a nice dry Greek red. I’ve never had this before. I’m starting to enjoy myself when the conversation turns to the healthcare system in America, and I start to think about what we’re paying for health insurance.  And…, in my mind,  I’m right back to being homeless living under a bridge.  The wine kicks in and I start to relax. We do some Greek dancing, the others get desserts, and the next thing I know we’ve been there for almost four hours and it’s time to go home. I’ve had a great time.

I fall asleep and in my dream, I’m sitting at my desk, like I am right now. It’s dark in my office, like it is right now.  It’s overcast, like it is right now.  I’ve been pounding away at this keyboard trying to make things work, like I do all day every day. The doorbell rings. Someone I am supposed to meet is here. I don’t want to get up from the computer because I need to get shit done, but I’ve got to answer. It’s someone I haven’t met before. I open the door, and he steps in from the rain. I can’t see him because I’ve been in the dark and my eyes aren’t adjusted to even the little bit of light outside. I’m talking to him, introducing myself, telling him in that in addition to what we’re meeting about, I work on Treasured Locks. I am an entrepreneur with my own business, and it’s really been struggling, and I’m frustrated.  Suddenly, I can see him.  He’s a big man, at least 6′ 6″.  He’s probably about my age. He’s got dreads.  He has this huge smile on my face.  When I can finally see him, he’s about three or four feet away from me.  He takes a giant step, and he’s right up in my personal space. Why is this man I’ve never met so close to me? Then, he wraps me in a huge bear hug making me feel like a small child wrapped in his mother’s arms, and he says “I’m right there with you.”.  And I wake up still feeling that hug.

 

Synchronicities, signs, the materialist says they are merely coincidences.  Jung noted that two or more coincidental incidents with significance to the experiencers are synchronicities.  Jung once said:  “We often dream about people from whom we receive a letter by the next post. I have ascertained on several occasions that at the moment when the dream occurred the letter was already lying in the post-office of the addressee.”

This has been happening to me a lot lately.  One of the most significant I remember is dreaming of my mailbox being broken.  My mailbox was featured prominently in that dream. I drove around with it in the back of my pickup truck. Then, the next day on my walk, I saw two mailboxes laying broken on the ground and had another synchronistic event concerning a stranger introducing herself to me.

Last week I dreamed of a rabbit. Not one rabbit. Two rabbits in two different dreams. I never dream about rabbits.   One was someone’s pet and it “bit” me. I put “bit” in quotes because it was a playful nibble more than a bite.  The next day, a friend on Facebook mentioned getting rabbit signs from her husband.  Then later in the week, I had a long detailed dream about buying a car. I remember how obnoxious the sales person was. The next day, on my walk, I listened to a podcast, and Sandra Champlain talked about going with a friend to buy a car.

Today, a heron flew over my head. No big deal.  Herons aren’t exactly an endangered species. But, herons are pretty rare in this part of Ohio and very rare in our neighborhood since we don’t live near water.  This bird buzzed over me at about 15′.  I could see every detail as he soared over my head. I have seen them fly over much higher, occasionally.  Then, he landed on the chimney of the house I was walking by and just sat there. I have never seen that. I took several pictures and thought I’d shoot a video of him flying off, but as I videoed him, he just continued to sit.  Finally, I turned off the video and then he flew off.

Yesterday, at IANDS, a woman gave me a little reading. Shayna dropped in and my friend gave me a bunch of detail about her. She mentioned Alicia Keys.  Well, I’m not particularly fond of Alicia Keys, and I don’t know if Shayna was or not. Today, as I’m walking, I get tired of the podcasts and decide to turn on some music for the last several minutes. I ask Siri to play Alicia Keys. When you do that, Siri will play songs in your library by the artist in alphabetical order.  The third song up is (I Know Why The) Caged Bird (Sings).  The song title is actually Caged Bird, but it’s a reference to Maya Angelou’s book.  I haven’t listened to the song much. It’s not one I would choose to play even from the couple of Alicia Keys albums I own.  Then, it hits me. The set up to this whole thing.

Last week I listened to Suzanne Giesemann’s podcast talking about our friend Brenda Baker and her transition and how she has been coming to people since her transformation. Suzanne was prompted to buy Maya Angelou’s book “I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings” early in the morning on the day of Brenda’s celebration of life. She did not know why. When she talked to her best friend Lynette, she discovered Maya Angelou was Brenda’s favorite author, and this was Brenda’s favorite book by Maya Angelou.  I’ve been wondering if I was close enough to Brenda to get a sign from her since we only met very briefly on three occasions.  So, did you follow that?  I listened to the podcast about the sign Brenda had given Suzanne around “I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings”.  My friend yesterday mentions Alicia Keys to me which means nothing to me at the time. Today, I get the thought to listen to Alicia Keys which I almost never do.  Had the song had the full title of the book, I would have never gotten to it in my listen because I only got to songs beginning with “F” before my walk was over. And, the third song I listen to refers me back to Brenda’s sign to Suzanne.  Did Shayna drop that message on my friend yesterday, or did Brenda, or is Shayna with Brenda?

If you think you don’t get signs or synchronicities, I’m pretty sure you’re wrong. I think we have to be open to them and stop dismissing them as coincidence. They can be subtle. They usually are. They are easy to dismiss as coincidence. But, how often do I dream about rabbits or buying a car? How often does a heron land a few feet from you in West Chester, OH and just sit there? And the Alicia Keys thing, I’d love to calculate the odds of me listening to the podcast with that reference, then getting the nudge to listen to that song that I haven’t listened to in many years, the very next day.

p.s.- and it just dawned on me as I looked at the picture of the heron and had completed the blog that the heron (bird sign) refers to the bird in the song/book title. I was wondering if/how the heron tied into this. Duh.

p.p.s.- I emailed this blog to Suzanne since her nudge from Brenda was involved in these synchronicities. Following is the email I got back from Suzanne with a message from Shayna. It’s edited to omit a prediction that has come to pass yet.

“I’m not caged anymore, Daddy, by that people suit, and yes, I’ve met Miss Brenda. We sent you the bird.” 

They are having fun together. Brenda is hugging her as I write this.
Shayna shows me her sister bouncing a basketball. Feels current.

Gotta disembark from my England flight right now, but here they are – these two beautiful lights, Shayna and Brenda!

I’m always happy to hear from Suzanne and she always tries to include some evidence in her communications if it’s from a “departed” loved one. But, Suzanne doesn’t know Kayla- at all.  A basketball?  Kayla?  Current?  Nope. She must be wrong about that. But, I know Suzanne’s connected with Brenda and Shayna. I don’t need the validation.  Tywana texts Kayla to ask her if she’s been bouncing a basketball. Stranger things have happened (rarely- Kayla detests any sport with a ball).  Kayla is babysitting for some kids this summer.  Kayla writes back “lol it’s weird you say that.  I haven’t. But today I made Hunter “basketballs” and “soccer balls” out of Play-Doh, and she’s been throwing those around.”

Tonight I’m travelling. I find myself in an airport. I’ve just gotten off the plane and am looking for the baggage carousel. There is a girl, about 15 years old who was on the plane with me. She’s thin and has blond hair.  She’s about 5′ 10″ tall. She looks a lot like a girl Shayna played volleyball with her freshman year. She hugged me before we got on the plane.  She hugged me when we got off the plane. As she gathers her bags and is leaving, she gives me a third hug. Then, she looks me in the eye and says “Oh, I can kiss you?” and gives me a peck on the lips the way Kayla and Shayna used to before Kayla decided they were too old to kiss their Dad on the lips. She’s off, on her way to wherever. That’s strange. Why is one of Shayna’s friends being so friendly to me? I don’t even remember her name.

I look over at an adjacent carousel, and I see Kayla. She’s just gotten in from somewhere. She smiles and waves. I’m glad she’s here. I didn’t know she would be here, but we can share a ride, as soon as I can find my luggage! It’s been forever. Where is it?

I’m getting impatient. I walk over to the nearest baggage carousel and start to look for my bag. But, I can’t remember what it looks like. Did I bring the maroon folding garment bag? There’s one. It has blue trim on it. Did mine have blue trim?  This bag is packed full. I wouldn’t have had that much stuff for such a short trip. How long was I gone? I think about a week. Why don’t any of these bags have name tags on them? I ask the people at the carousel which city they came in from to see if I’m even at the right carousel. They answer “Miami”. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t in Miami. I’ll need to ask an airline employee where my carousel is. What was my flight number? I look through my pocket for my airline ticket. Maybe I can remember the city. I was somewhere in Texas. Was I in Dallas?  Why can’t I remember where I was?  Then it dawns on me. When you can’t remember where you’ve been, it’s probably a dream. Is this a dream?  I check. It feels authentic. I can feel the floor beneath me. I hear airport sounds. There are all kinds of people here. I feel real. This isn’t a dream. But, it’s got to be a dream, or I have dementia. I will myself awake, not sure it will work. A few seconds later, I’m in my bed analyzing the dream.  As I go through the elements, I realize the girl at the beginning was Shayna in disguise. When we have dream visits, I tend to get overly excited. I think she came disguised this time.

I was listening to Roberta Grimes’ podcast yesterday. She started off by saying when you finally get that we don’t die, when you deeply internalize it, not just know it in your heart, you have mornings when you wake up back here on Earth and think “Damn, here I am again.” Well, that’s not a quote. I’m paraphrasing.  I think of Brenda after she crossed over, coming to Suzanne and saying “I just woke up.”  And I think to myself, “Why can’t I just wake up?” If this life is but a dream, an illusion, a temporary role we play, why can’t I just snap out of it? It was so easy last night.

In tonight’s dream, I’m at a gathering at church.  This church is a huge campus with several buildings. I’m mingling, killing time, waiting for my parents (this the first 17 years of my life).  Maybe this is Pop’s church, but it’s different.  Then it dawns on me that I have my car. So, I’ll just leave and meet them back at the house.  As I’m walking up this big hill to the parking garage, I look over to my right and in the crowd I spot someone who looks a lot like my cousin Marty. He smiles at me.  I give him the nod and keep walking. But, then I look at him again. “Man, that looks a lot like Marty.” I think.  I say “Marty is that you?”  You see, it can’t be Marty because Marty “died” about three weeks ago.  Marty says “Hi Brian.”  I say “Hi.”  A while later I look over at him again and he’s noticeably younger and thinner. At least five years younger, maybe ten.  The gray is disappearing, his eyes are clearer.  He’s not wearing glasses.  Marty was I think about ten years older than me when he passed.  “Wow, you’re growing younger.” I say to him.  He smiles back at me “Yep.  When I got there, Dad looked at me and said ‘Boy, is that you?'”  Then, Marty said something about Bailey. I can’t remember what.  It was really short like “Bailey’s there.” or “Bailey says ‘hi'”. I was confused because I don’t know any Baileys. I’m thinking Bailey might be a pet they had, but I don’t think they ever had a dog.

Then, I wake up, still wondering who Bailey is until it dawns on me my friend Jason has a daughter who has crossed and her name is Bailey.  Is this the Bailey?

Dreams are odd.  Why would Marty appear in my dream?  Marty and I weren’t particularly close in life.  The last several decades I’d pretty much only see him at funerals since Dad’s side of the family doesn’t have family reunions. Yet, there he was, smiling and growing younger and thinner.

I love my dream world where physics doesn’t exist as we know it here. As I’m on a cross country bike ride, I invent a new way to cut through head winds by laying out on my side and kind of side stroking the way you would in a swimming pool. The bike actually disappears and it’s more like swimming through air than biking, but it works in my imaginary world.

After the bike ride, I’m walking along talking with my friend Robert. We’re talking about our kids and he’s telling me his daughter is 5′10″ which he thinks is really tall.  I tell him my daughter, the volleyball player, was 5′10″ when she was 15.  Just then I hear Shayna behind me saying “Oh.  Me.  You’re talking about me.”  She’s thrilled that I’m talking about her.  I turn around to see her jumping up and down with a huge smile on her face, happy that she’s being acknowledged.   I say “Yes, Shayna.  I’m talking about you.”  Robert turns to see who I’m talking to and sees no one there. I say “Oh, you can’t see her because she passed away a few years ago. She’s dead.” Robert tells me that there is no death. That death is just an illusion and, of course, she is still right here.  He goes on, but I can’t remember all he said, just the feeling I got knowing that he was right and that there is no separation even though it sometimes seems like it.  I wake up in tears. I’m not sure if they’re tears of joy or of sorrow. But, I cherish the knowledge that even the apparent separation is not forever and I’m one day closer.

I’m walking through an amusement park and I look up and I see Shayna. She’s about 8 years old. I can’t believe my eyes. She’s right here.  I look around to see if I’m dreaming or this is real. I can feel the ground beneath my feet.  I can feel the sunshine and the air on my skin. I’m convinced it’s real. I reach out to Shayna but she pulls away. She says that this can’t be real, that we aren’t really together again. I tell her it is. She says the dentist (I don’t know why she said dentist) had said that she wasn’t going to die. So, she’s scared that if we accept being together again, she’ll be taken away from me.  I think that maybe she’s right, but I tell her it’s OK.This time we’ll really be together. I reach out to touch her. She pulls away and kind of kneels down, not wanting me to touch her, scared that it’s not real. I put my hand on her back and I feel her start to fade away until she’s gone. I wake up, covered in goosebumps.

The scene shifts. I’m outdoors and some people are having a beach volleyball pick up game. They ask me if I want to play. Sure, I say and start to take off my shoes to get ready.  Someone asks me how old I am. Without hesitation or thinking I say “I’m 31″.  I have no idea why.

A couple of days ago I had an energy healing session and the guy who was doing it told me Shayna might come in a dream to me that night. This was the day before her birthday.  I think I did feel her presence that night.  But, no dream.

Tonight, as I’m traveling through dream land, I have two dreams about departed relatives. One with Uncle Darwin and one with Shayna.  Tywana and I are at a party with Tracy, Beth and other parents from Helping Parents Heal along with several other people. Tracy and the other parents are going to another place to have a party for Aymen, her son.  They tell us the name of the place and leave, but all anyone can remember is they said “Court”.  We have no idea where the place is, and apparently no cell phones to call them. So, we just start wandering around.  We discover a place across the street called “The Burger Court”.  It’s a little hole-in-the-wall place that specializes in pizza (go figure).  We look inside and there are our friends we’re looking for. We go in, Tywana, Kayla, and me. As I’m talking to Tywana, I look up and sitting on one of the tables, eating pizza is Shayna. This is six year old Shayna (the energy healer told me she likes to present herself around six because that’s our favorite age of her). She’s got the fat face she had back then. All she can think about is her pizza. I know it’s a dream.  I know she’s not supposed to be there, it’s supposed to be Kayla. So, before I wake myself up, I just reach out and grab her with my right arm (she’s got pizza in her right hand and is not about to put it down).  I put my arm around her and pull her close to kiss her cheek.  And I get my kiss.  Then I wake up.

Tonight I’m on a mission.  I come running out of a building to a parking lot where I’m looking for my car.  I can’t remember where I’ve parked. I think my car is blue, but there are no blue cars in the lot.  I pull my keys out of my pocket and hit the button to make the lights flash.  Nothing. I can’t find my car. I’m stuck. I can’t remember how I got here or where I’m supposed to go. So, I decide to abort the mission.  I will myself awake. I’ve done this before when I find myself in a dream that is going nowhere. The  difference is this time I feel a new sensation.  As I am coming out of the dream instead of just popping awake in my bed, I feel myself dissolving in dream land- like I’m being teleported on Star Trek.

After a few minutes I fall back asleep and I’m on a mission with another agent. We’re checking out of the lot with our assigned vehicle.  As we’re in line to check out, getting last minute instructions, the instructor (Will Smith I think) says “Has anyone ever had an experience where you find yourself stuck?  You can’t remember where you are or why you’re there?”  I say “Yes. This just happened to me. What do I do about it?”.  He reaches inside of the car, puts his finger on my palm and says “Like this?”  Then, the thought hits me.  This has to be a dream. This would never happen in real life.  The dream starts to dissolve and I start waking up. This time I feel another sensation I’ve never felt.  I feel myself coming back in to my bedroom, floating and I lie down backwards into my body as my dream body and my physical body meld back together. Then, I’m awake in the bed again.

I fall asleep a third time. I’m trying to park in a parking garage and I’m confused by the system to get a ticket. I leave the car in a drop off area and walk in to try to figure out the machine which is unbelievably complex.  The attendant walks up to me and helps me out walking me through the three step process to get a ticket which is actually a huge sheet of paper that has the exact location where they have valet parked my car while I tried to figure out this machine. He jokingly tells me I have done absolutely everything wrong I could, including leaving my car in the wrong place which is why they had to move it since it was blocking traffic.

The idea of being lost in my dreams, unprepared, on some sort of mission and having no idea what is common. Driving impaired (unable to see clearly usually) is also common. Lucid dreams, where I realize I’m actually dreaming are fairly rare. But, when I have woken myself from a dream, I’ve never done it the two ways I did last night- one time dissolving and feeling myself leave the dream slowly. The other time climbing back into my body as It was laying there in my bed.  I hope it’s the beginning of more lucid dreams or maybe even astral travel.

Last night, I was scrolling through Facebook and came across a memory from three years ago.  It was Shayna and Kayla at the first family weekend Kayla had at UT.  In fact, it would be the only one Shayna would attend, in the flesh.  I look at pictures of Shayna all day every day from my screensaver on my computer, to my lock screen on my phone, to her pictures in the foyer. But, some pictures impact me more than others. I hadn’t seen this one in a while. She is staring straight into the camera with those eyes that could pierce my soul, and it brought me immediately to tears.  Man, do I miss her. Most of the time it’s tolerable at this point. But, there are those moments…

As I always do, I said good night to her as I stepped out onto the deck to let the dogs out for the night.  I usually say good night to her as I close the bedroom door, as I did when she was going to sleep down the hall.  But, I seemed to hear her say to me “Why do you tell me good night?”.

A couple of days ago I was in a video meeting with James Van Praagh.  He said that every night as we sleep our spirits slip out of our bodies. I’ve heard this before. This is the time when we visit with our loved ones, and our guides. This is the time when we “dream”. We don’t remember most of this. Sleep is a funny thing.  We think of it as a time for the body to rest. But, why would the body need to rest? And when we’re asleep, it’s not like the body is off.  Lots of stuff is going on in the body. Most processes continue right through our sleep. In some ways, in some states of sleep, our brains are actually more active than when we are awake. One theory I have heard of why we sleep is being in this body is hard for our spirits. Sleep isn’t a time for our body to rejuvenate, it’s time for our spirits to rejuvenate. We take little trips Home every night to recharge, plan, visit, and recuperate. We just don’t remember them. When I woke this morning, I had the distinct impression I was with Shayna during my sleep, but I have no memory of it.

I’ll probably continue to say good night to Shayna every night.  It’s a habit at this point. But, instead of saying goodbye, I should probably be saying hello.

Last night I had a dream that featured a mailbox. I don’t ever recall dreaming about a mailbox.  My mailbox had been knocked down, I put it in the back of my truck, took it out of my truck, put it back in my truck.

Then, today, not five minutes after another synchronicity occurred, I looked up as I was on my walk and saw this. Note the mail scattered on the ground by the mailbox sitting several feet away from its post.