Synchronicity

When I came home last night I found an unfamiliar jug being soaked in the kitchen sink. It was white, decorated with swirls of blue and orange, and had Made in Italy written on the bottom. After being cleaned up it proved to be in perfect condition. My husband had picked it up from the pile of rubbish awaiting the annual ‘inorganic collection’ from the pavement of our street.

Besides feeling delighted to have such a beautiful jug, I was amazed. A few days ago (unknown to my husband) I resumed editing the short novel which I hope to publish next year, and had been wondering where to find a cover image featuring the Italian jug which is a key part of the story and is painted in just the same colours and patterns as our own new acquisition.

This is an example of synchronicity – often defined as ‘meaningful coincidence’. As described in the writings of Carl Gustav Jung, this phenomenon suggests the presence of a deeper order of things, a spiritual framework organising and connecting all aspects of life.

When researching my ebook Life’s Labyrinth I was surprised by how many of the contributors described synchronous events which had turned out to be important in shaping their personal destiny. Such incidents might include apparently chance meetings or opportunities which changed the course of a life, or financial windfalls which equated precisely to the sum of money needed at the time. In recent years I have experienced several instances of synchronicity myself. One somewhat disturbing variant, which has happened on several occasions, is seeing a photo of an old friend come up on my computer screensaver on the day that they died.

Not all these incidents appear to have any future consequences, for example it may not be technically feasible to use a photo of our new jug on the cover of my forthcoming book. Perhaps the purpose of ‘synchronicities’  is just to remind us that there is more to life than we can understand from our limited human perspective. Or perhaps, as skeptics affirm, they represent nothing more than random chance and we exaggerate their significance because we are biased to notice things which confirm our preconceptions, and to seek for patterns and meanings where none exist. 

Pendulum divination

Until recently I had would have agreed with the conventional scientific view that seeking answers to personal questions by asking a pendulum was a ridiculous idea. Now I am not so sure.

A couple of years ago I visited a colour therapy clinic. The assessment did not include any questions about my presenting symptoms and medical history, but was carried out with a pendulum and a set of multicoloured threads. It came up with some remarkably accurate statements about my past and present health.

The treatment involved having wires, coming from a machine in the next room, attached to my body via bands around my neck and wrists. Sitting on a comfortable chair for several hours, with nothing to do except read a book or look through the window at the pleasant view, was relaxing if a little dull.  During a quiet afternoon when I was the only client present, the therapist offered to show me how to use a pendulum. I was skeptical, but agreed out of politeness and to pass the time.

He gave me a key on a string and told me to hold it with one hand above the palm of the other, and to ask ‘Please show me a YES’. To my surprise it started to sway from side to side and then, when I asked ‘Please show me a NO’, it swayed in a direction at right angles to the first. The pattern of movement varies between individuals and is sometimes circular, for example clockwise for YES and anticlockwise for NO. The next step was to confirm the system by asking questions to which I already knew the answer, for example ‘Is my name Jennifer?’ and ‘Is my name Margaret?’. It gave correct results.

I was intrigued, and soon afterwards I bought a small crystal pendulum to experiment further. It almost always gives me an answer to ‘Yes or No’ questions ranging from the trivial (‘Is it safe to eat that curry?’) to the serious (‘Is it a good idea to move house this year?’). Many critics would say that its answers merely validate decisions I have already made, but I am not sure this is so; some of them have surprised me and they have never turned out to be ‘wrong’ as far as I can tell.

Googling ‘pendulum divination’ or ‘pendulum dowsing’ yields many articles and videos from intuitive and psychic perspectives, for example this one from Helen Demetriou which emphasises respect for the spiritual context. There is very little objective research about whether pendulums work, and if so whether the mechanism is physiological or supernatural. Theories range from subtle changes in muscle tension resulting from subconscious thoughts and feelings, to the influence of angels or spirit guides. This is a field of study in which the attitude of the investigators could easily bias the results, and most writings on the subject come either from committed believers or from cynics determined to debunk the whole thing.

I am sometimes asked whether I use a pendulum in my Bach flower practice to help choose the most suitable remedies for my clients. The answer is no, because this would go against the Bach Foundation’s code of practice, one reason being that such an aid could bypass the process of interview and self-inquiry which is an important part of the system developed by Dr Bach.

And what about the colour therapy? Again, there has been limited formal research. I met some other clients at the clinic who had been diagnosed with major physical diseases and said they had benefited a great deal, but whether it had much effect on my own various minor ailments is difficult to say.

Pendulum divination, colour therapy and Bach flower remedies are just three of the energy-based modalities which are well established in alternative circles, but are largely ignored or dismissed in orthodox ones.

Names

I’ve always taken care about the choice of names. Whenever a new cat comes into our home I spend many happy hours deciding what to call it. I sometimes also give names to inanimate objects such as computers or cars.

Names can have a major influence in many spheres of life – the development of a child’s character, the marketing of a new product, the psychological impact of a medical diagnosis. For each individual, the significance of a name will depend on its cultural associations, whether it sounds pleasing, and how it looks when written down. I can ‘see’ certain names in different colours with my mind’s eye.

But the idea that names can have any metaphysical significance, or predict the future in some way, never seemed credible to me until I started thinking about a couple of my experiences.

When I moved to New Zealand 12 years ago, I needed a new email address and chose the username of ‘Starflower’ simply because I liked it (though I no longer have it now). It was not until two or three years later that the ‘flower’ part acquired significance, when I began studying the Bach flower remedies and found that one of these, Star of Bethlehem, is also known as Starflower. And about ten years later I developed an interest in astrology, so that completes the ‘star’ part.

Another example: ‘Bach’ is an unusual name where I come from, and one that I would rather avoid because I find it difficult to pronounce, however my two great enthusiasms in recent years have been the flower remedies of Edward Bach and the music of Johann Sebastian Bach.

Maybe just a couple of trivial coincidences, or maybe a little glimpse of esoteric patterns we do not understand.

The symbol of the butterfly

Over the past several weeks we have been watching the slow transformation of the caterpillar on our swan plant as it became a chrysalis and then, today, opened to release this beautiful Monarch Butterfly.

Today we also attended the funeral of a much-loved family member, and I remembered that in many traditions the butterfly represents the freedom of the departing spirit. In Ancient Greek the same word, psyche, means both butterfly and soul.

Talking and listening

Out of the blue I got an email from a young woman who had been a student of mine many years ago, when I was a palliative care psychiatrist in England. She was writing to thank me for teaching her the importance of listening to patients. Although ‘of course it seemed boring at the time’, later on she had realized its value, and wrote that ‘without knowing it you made a huge contribution to my life’.

I remember the student herself, but have quite forgotten our session on this particular topic, so was surprised as well as pleased by her message. It made me think about talking and listening as a two-way process which needs mindful attention on both sides.

Casual remarks can have a significant and lasting effect, whether hurtful or inspiring, whereas statements intended to carry great significance may have no impact on the listener at all. There is a Bach flower remedy, Heather, for those who talk incessantly about themselves and their problems whether their audience is interested or not.

Listening calls for just as much care as talking, for it takes patience and focus to really understand what another person wants to say, especially if you are bored by the topic or in a hurry to get away, distracted by noisy surroundings, or hindered by a hearing impairment or language barrier.

Cultural differences can cause misunderstanding. For example I find most New Zealanders speak in a literal and direct fashion, while English people favor more subtle nuances. Or as my husband put it: ‘Kiwis talk common sense when Poms talk rubbish’.

Talking includes ‘self-talk’ as well as conversing with other people. How often do we speak to ourselves in critical or discouraging ways instead of affirming ones?

And listening is not just about verbal communication. The maxim ‘listen to your body’ refers to the idea that physical feelings and symptoms may hold some kind of message. We can also benefit from ‘listening’ for the significance of life’s recurring patterns, synchronicities, and the inner voice of intuition. And from listening to uplifting music, and the sounds of nature such as breeze, waterfalls and birdsong.

If you never say ‘No’ …

If you never say ‘no’, what is your ‘yes’ worth? I heard this wise saying from one of my first teachers in the art of holistic healing, and have often passed it on to clients who find it hard to protect themselves against unwelcome demands and intrusions. 


Problems which arise from this inability to set personal boundaries can include neglect of personal needs and desires, tiredness from overwork, and feelings of victimhood, martyrdom or resentment often concealed by a polite facade.


Some people who cannot say ‘No’ to the demands of others hold the belief that being ill is the only valid reason to claim care and attention for themselves. There is even a theory that illness can develop primarily for this reason. Whether or not that is true, such a mindset can certainly prolong recovery. This would happen through unconscious mind-body mechanisms and is not deliberate malingering.


Two key Bach flower remedies to be considered for the ‘yes-person’ are Centaury and Walnut. Centaury is for those so eager to please others that they agree to each and every request. Walnut is for those who are unduly sensitive to outside influences and therefore easily distracted from their chosen path in life. Other flowers might be indicated for the secondary consequences, such as Elm for feeling overburdened with responsibilites, Olive for exhaustion, Willow for self-pity, or Holly for hostility towards others.
Practical aids to setting boundaries include such simple steps as shutting your door or turning off your phone when you do not want interruptions, and limiting the period you are willing to spend on certain activities. You may also need to practice techniques for saying ‘No’ without causing offence, or being worried about doing so. This can be done firmly and politely without having to give detailed reasons or apologies. 
 
 

Bach flower remedies for anxiety

Anxiety is a very common problem. About one-third of the clients in my Bach flower practice present with some form of anxiety as their main complaint.

Many of the Bach flower remedies can help with managing anxiety, but which one to choose?  Today’s post gives a simple overview. I have included seven flowers – five from the ‘Fear’ group in Dr Bach’s original classification, and two others.

Mimulus: For ‘fear of known things’ – for example phobias of flying, dental visits, public speaking or animals. it is also helpful for those of a generally nervous and shy disposition. The remedy promotes courage, bravery, and trust in the outside world.

Aspen: For fear of the unknown, in sensitive and perhaps psychic people who tend to feel nervous and apprehensive without knowing why.

Agrimony:  For those who hide their worries and fears from others, and even from themselves, by putting on a cheerful facade and maybe using drink or drugs to numb their anxieties. The remedy promotes honesty about feelings.

Red Chestnut: For excessive fears and anxieties felt on behalf of loved ones, rather than for oneself. With this remedy it becomes possible to develop a healthy detachment while still maintaining compassion and empathy.

White Chestnut: For repetitive worrying thoughts going round and round in the mind, often causing insomnia. The remedy promotes mental quiet and calm.

Cherry Plum: For severe anxiety which runs away with the imagination, with fear of losing control.

Rock Rose: For severe terror or panic, especially in threatening situations, and for nightmares.

Combinations of the above can occur, so two or more of these remedies can be mixed in the same treatment bottle. Remedies for associated problems such as feeling overburdened with responsibility, obsessional tendencies, or coping with change, may also need to be included. This allows a more finely-tuned individual approach than is possible with pharmaceutical drugs.