Learning from synchronicities

Many of you know that I work with personality questionnaires such as the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator and have done so for a long time.  I find these tools useful though ultimately limited, in the way that any model or framework is – it gives you insights and a way of organising thoughts about yourself and others, but ultimately real insight goes beyond the boundaries of a model or frame.  The risk of these tools is that they can seem to be telling you about yourself from outside, when real insight comes from within.  Some people like the ease of relying on a tool to gain self-awareness, but this seems to me to be missing the point.
 
I don’t see personality questionnaires as rigid indicators or as ways of compartmentalising a person.  Instead I see them as ways into insight, explorations, on a good day giving rise to that favoured phrase I have borrowed before, ‘accidents of perception’.  Once someone described the Myers-Briggs to me as a raft that gets you across the river, the risk being that you get so attached to the raft you never cross to the other side.
 
So I use these tools with care, and I know that they can add value when used appropriately.
 
Over the years I have met a significant minority of people who object to personality questionnaires on principle because they feel they are being pinned to a display board like a captured butterfly.  I remember the IT analyst who dramatically tore up the questionnaire in my presence, throwing the pieces out of the window; and the lawyer who insisted on tossing a coin to answer every question.  So I’m never surprised when someone new comes along to fit into this category (!) and I am even prepared to be entertained.
 
One of my current projects involves working with three others, and at my instigation, we all set out to complete some personality questionnaires to help us understand our approaches and goals.  One person took a long time to respond.  I was disappointed but not surprised when he eventually refused to complete the questionnaires on philosophical grounds, saying he didn’t do such things and never had done because he didn’t believe personality could be captured in this way and he felt it would limit his potential for growth and change.  As a deep believer in the everpresent potential for growth and change in all of us, I explained that I shared his philosophical orientation but believed in the value of such tools, having used them to good effect over many years. 
 
Overnight the logical ‘flaw’ in his argument came clear to me: if he really believed in growth and development (and flexibility?) why could he not embody these principles, grow and develop and try this new way of learning at least once based on his trust in me and my expertise?  I chose not to share this insight with him as I felt it might be or seem defensive.  I accepted his position, and saw no point in trying to change his mind.
 
The next day I received a surprise e-mail out of the blue – after a long gap – from a yoga teacher where the following view of me was expressed: that I would only be open to learning on terms whereby I fitted anything new into my existing structures and this would not allow a rooting for something new and quite possibly different.  I was told that this isn’t learning and is a paradox in terms of my apparent wish to explore beyond what I know.  This was hugely challenging to me in terms of my self-beliefs. 
 
The synchronicity of this interchange occurring hot on the heels of the first one stopped me short in my tracks.  Of course I realised the fatal flaw of hubris in the first exchange – I had been feeling a little smug, let’s face it, in noting the logical inconsistency of my colleague’s position with regard to growth and development in the face of his rigidity when it came to filling in a simple questionnaire.  So this next interchange was there to bring me back to size, it was my come-uppance, my dressing down by the world.  It was a highly timely coincidence, nothing more – or was it a synchronicity, what Carl Jung called ‘meaningful coincidences’?
 
I reflected on this and the simple juxtaposition of these two experiences led me to make a proposal to the yoga teacher, that I would be prepared to work and learn in a way that was different from my usual approach. I am still awaiting a clear response to this proposal though I have had an acknowledgment. 
 
In parallel with both these events, a Jungian discussion group I belong to suddenly featured an amazing story about a woman who was thinking about the need for taking care of her teeth when suddenly a box of toothpaste fell miraculously at her feet on a busy street.  She looked up and saw an empty window with a curtain blowing and no one visible.  The story was described very vividly and to me it read almost like a dream.  The writer was asking for some help in making sense of it, she wanted to know whether it was a meaningful coincidence or not, and I found I had many ideas.  This led to a wonderfully energising discussion between four or five of us, and an ultimate interpretation by the woman herself such that the curious toothpaste event which was initially so perplexing, became lighter in its legacy and left her feeling secure that her needs were taken care of at and in the moment, and she didn’t have to worry.  
 
While I was writing this story, another e-mail arrived from one of these correspondents I have just mentioned.  In it she talks to me about learning and its source and she says: ‘No one can teach you anything.  You have an innate code, that needs to be unlocked.  Others don’t have anything to give you.  Trust yourself.’  

And as I have been reflecting on how to end this post, another message in this discussion that arrived even more recently, feels quite relevant: ‘And sometimes it just is as simple as asking or stating a need. No begging, arduous on-your-knees pleading, gritting or grinding of the teeth, but a simple ask, and the universe can reply with a wonderful, abundant and unexpected gift, literally falling from heaven.’

I like these messages that have come from new friends many thousands of miles away, appearing with unexpected serendipity on my screen – my boxes of toothpaste falling at my feet.  They feel like truths to hold on to as the unfinished dialogues of which life is made, continue to unfold.

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35 Responses to Learning from synchronicities

  1. Barbara says:

    I found this post very interesting. Syncronicity is a gift in our lives. As you said it sometimes gives us a dressing down, sometimes leads us gently and sometimes shocks. For 3 years I have been trying to set up a counselling service for asylum seekers and refugees and came up against all sorts of obstacles. I was terribly stressed about it at times and on 2 or 3 occasions tried to walk away from it. Each time I tried to abandon the project something would present itself in the way of a phone call or support. One night I decided I was finally going to tell everyone I couldn’t go on, I went to bed and in the middle of the night turned on the World Service. The programme that was on was about asylum seekers in Southampton, where I work, and reminded me why I had started the whole enterprise. That was the turning point. We are seeing our first clients in October.
    What is important is the connection between the ‘event’ and our willingness to receive its message.

    • I read something a few days ago about how a cell cannot develop and protect itself at the same time. It seems to have come to mind now in the context of the comments about learning. Unravelling this piece of information, I can see how an organism, single celled or multi-celled, might not be available for learning, development, (and potential change), if its “membranes” are rigid or set to defend. Learning is an exchange: perhaps something old for something new, perhaps ignorance for wisdom; and for this reason it seems to require a permeability of membranes.

      • Karin says:

        Hello Beverley, this is a fantastic link which I need to think more about. My friend Betty, who I was visiting this weekend, was very excited by it.

        I like your description of learning as an exchange, and the permeability of membranes. I did wonder though about the idea of completely unprotected learning. How permeable is it realistic/safe for a cell’s/organism’s membranes to be? If a cell were completely permeable, might it risk losing its identity or, to use different language, being brainwashed or misled? And does disease happen when membranes are rigid (ie disease being the effect of the cell being deprived of external nutrients or stimuli) or when membranes are ‘too permeable’ (if that concept makes sense) and let mutant cells in?

        I am having the same thoughts about blogs and my blog as a kind of living organism! – which is a reflection that may not make sense to you but may to one or two other readers/contributors. The jury is still out.

    • Karin says:

      Hello Barbara, good to see you here again. You describe well the different effects that synchronicity can have – and also, as in your example, it can encourage, energise, give hope and inspire. Even in the experience I’ve had recently where it’s felt like a dressing-down, it’s actually been a huge wake-up call and has helped me see things far more clearly so I’ve ended up feeling re-vitalised. I think that being awake to the many sychronicities happening all around us gives a deeper feeling of connectedness in the world. I strongly agree with your last sentence, thanks.

  2. Dody Jane says:

    When I saw the word ”synchronicities” I had a moment of de ja vu. Another very good friend, someone I met in a graduate course, wrote a blog post on synchronicity. I am attaching it for you to read – it is sort of like toothpaste falling at my feet in an odd sort of way – Your two posts are very different – but both include a decision to … evolve?
    I hope you enjoy Jean’s post – http://goglobal.uncg.edu/graduate_liberal_studies/blog/?p=372

    • Karin says:

      Thanks for the link, Dody Jane, which I enjoyed. Yes, these are decisions to evolve – a good way of putting it and one that also echoes Beverley’s comments about organisms.

  3. Mandi says:

    Wonderful Karin – you are a beautiful writer 🙂

  4. Chris says:

    My contribution is a bit like Barbara’s. I am currently Chairman of the Parish Council and also lead a group involved in re-establishing a Management Committee for a neglected and derelict Village Hall. I control updating of the Parish Council’s website. Five of the local parishes band together every year to produce a a rural show – if it were bigger you would probably call it a Country Fair. As it is it’s a great day out for about 2000 local people. My share of that is to organise and run a dog show. And I’m involved with a group writing a document about the Parish which should help us in future control local development so that it is on our terms. The other day I was thinking that I’m always behind with my domestic duties and am finding less and less time to pursue my own hobbies and interests. I decided that I was over-extended and that I would have to give some of it up. This is a thought that visits me at intervals but this time I decided that I was really going to divest myself of something.

    The next day I bumped into some neighbours while shopping and they asked me about some detail of village life. I didn’t tell them about my secret intention. When I got home there was an e-mail from them praising me for all I do on behalf of the parish, saying that as a result of my activities the community was now more alive than it had been for years and hoping that I had a good few years left in me yet as if I decided to give up it would be very bad news. Needless to say I dropped the idea of giving anything up!

    • Karin says:

      Hi Chris, this is an interesting one. I feel ambivalent about it. You say clearly that you had decided to give up some of your community work for valid personal reasons, to do with rebalancing how you are spending your time. Then your neighbours’ positively reinforcing feedback and the synchronicity of their comment that they hoped you wouldn’t give up any of your community work, has led to a reversal, apparently overturning your initial resolve to get the balance back in your life. It is always very hard to stop doing something when grateful recipients reconfirm the value it is adding to their lives. Even if not intended as such as in your example, the effect can sometimes be a little like emotional blackmail!

      This makes me feel that synchronicities might sometimes reinforce us in patterns, habits or decisions which served us well at one time, but are no longer necessarily supporting us to the same extent. (I’m not saying this is definitely the case in your example.) It has given me a whole other avenue to be conscious of with synchronicities. Are they always to be trusted at face value? You can marvel at the meaningful coincidence, but still step outside of the power of the event/experience, and decide to stick to your guns. In fact, such a synchronicity, if looked at with detachment, can even show you the pressures around you to stay in (or go to?) a place that is not healthy for you at the moment.

      Thanks for highlighting this other dimension around synchronicities. They really are like dynamite, and to be handled with care.

      • Chris says:

        Those are fair points Karin, and you know me well enough to know my weaknesses. But what I have now resolved to do (before reading your comments!) is to continue to be involved with things but to delegate better and to encourage others to help share the load. I’m the oldest member of any group I belong to and I must make people appreciate that and accept that at best it will only be a few more years before I start to take a back seat anyway. But wasn’t it Dolly Parton (one of my all-time greats) who said she’d rather wear out than fade out?

  5. Dody Jane says:

    I love your description of your rural show, Chris. When I imagine it I use British TV as my guide, mystery shows, comedies that I am able to see on cable and public television over here in the U.S.

    Karin knows that I am a hopeless anglophile, someone with ‘mostly’ English heritage (except for my swedish side) but nevertheless, a yearning to one day make it to England for my dream trip. I am determined to visit in the next ten years. Maybe my synchronicity involves blogging and finding some connections I would never have had otherwise.

    I would love to hear about your village – the word village just does not have the same meaning over here. Being as involved as you are makes me a huge admirer. I am terribly glad to hear that your efforts are appreciated. A dog show sounds fun! I wish I could bring my own little dog, she is such a cutie.

    • Karin says:

      Hello Dody Jane, your comments reminded me of when I first discovered your blog inadvertently when I was searching for something else on the net. It was a happy discovery and then the synchronicities started to happen when I read some of your posts. I do hope you make it to England and sooner than within the next 10 years. It will be a pleasure to show you my English village (which is actually more like a hamlet, a term that I have only heard in the US attached to a restaurant!)

    • Chris says:

      Hi Dody Jane,

      At risk of boring others (and possibly you too) I shall tell you about parishes and villages and the Parishes Show.

      The lowest form of local government in England is a Parish Council. It’s a strictly non-political organisation but bound by laws and rules of conduct. In one way it has very little power but it is the conduit for lobbying at the next level up which is a Borough or District Council. Above them are County Councils and then you get, via Regional Assemblies (which are about to be discontinued), to Members of Parliament and national government. The whole country is divided up into parishes with the borders drawn fairly arbitrarily but with the intention of enclosing whole communities or groups of communities into sensible sorts of chunks. In urban areas you have Town Councils which are much the same as Parish Councils but tend to be larger. The rough rule of thumb is that a Parish Council has one elected Councillor for each 100 houses and one extra for the additional houses over a round number of hundreds.

      So I live in a village (A) which is joined to its neighbour (B) and together they are known by the authorities as The Two Villages but the residents are always careful to be clear about whether they live in A or B. Some things run deep! The Parish covers five such villages in all and we qualify for nine Parish Councillors plus a Clerk who is a paid employee of the Council. All the Councillors are unpaid volunteers. Our village has 16 houses and the neighbouring village has 88 so together we just manage to qualify for two Councillors. The other villages in the parish are larger and they account for the other seven.

      We are a rural community with a couple of areas where houses are grouped together but have quite a few spread out and surrounded by farmland. Round here we have mostly arable farming with some pigs, sheep and a few (a very few) cattle. Like a number of people round here I live in what used to be the farmhouse of a working farm. As late as WW2 it was a chicken farm. But gradually farms have got bigger and houses like mine have been sold as private residences and been extended over the years. The original parts of my house were built in 1640 but since WW2 it has had three owners and each has made some modifications. Both of the two villages boast a church but that’s it – no school, no shop, no pub, no Post Office. Fortunately we have two pubs in the next village but we have to go further afield for any of the other facilities..

      The Parishes Show is the joint effort of several adjacent parishes and has been running for 78 years. There are associated dog shows and horse shows, each of which raises money for declared charities. The main show consists of about 70 stalls, selling all sorts of things including food or raising money for charity. There is also a beer tent, a main arena where there is a continuous programme of events and a marquee where people enter handiwork, or garden produce, or flower arrangements, or home made wine or bread or photographs in direct competition with each other. The entry fees and the awards are trivial – it’s the being seen to be best that matters! There are also separate classes for farmers who compete for things like the best sheaf of wheat or the best bale of hay. Every award carries points and at the end of the day there are many lovely old silver cups awarded to the main amassers of points.

      This year’s arena events included a steel band, a birds of prey demonstration, some historical re-enactment, specialist kite flyers, model aeroplane flying, dog agility, Suffolk Punch horses and foals, a horse and carriage driving display and a parade of vintage tractors.

      As I said it’s an amateur fun day in the old-fashioned English country tradition.

      • Michael Reid says:

        We have those too . Splendid events.The less commercial the better.

        We have one at our local stately home. The Marquis comes and opens it and mingles. We knuckle our forlocks.

        There is no music other than the local brass band. There are no trade stalls. Loads of strawberries, cakes and plants. Tombola ,bash the rat, a dog show and wooden skittles. A conjurer for the kids. A treasure hunt in the Arboretum.

        A few public executions of the village oiks and it would be complete.

  6. Michael Reid says:

    Here is the bit to concentrate on

    ”Overnight the logical ‘flaw’ in his argument came clear to me: if he really believed in growth and development (and flexibility?) why could he not embody these principles, grow and develop and try this new way of learning at least once based on his trust in me and my expertise? I chose not to share this insight with him as I felt it might be or seem defensive. I accepted his position, and saw no point in trying to change his mind.

    The next day I received a surprise e-mail out of the blue – after a long gap – from a yoga teacher where the following view of me was expressed: that I would only be open to learning on terms whereby I fitted anything new into my existing structures and this would not allow a rooting for something new and quite possibly different. I was told that this isn’t learning and is a paradox in terms of my apparent wish to explore beyond what I know. This was hugely challenging to me in terms of my self-beliefs. ”

    Was your Yoga teacher saying you should have been prepared to tell the man that you thought his position was illogical ?

    Those of us of a semi autistic bent would have said to him ”your position is illogical-how can you be in favour of growth and development and refuse to try new things ?”

    But you were caring and sensitive towards him, but you did not believe in what you did. You were southern middle class polite-and that is why wars happen. Because polite people keep quiet.

    But its deeper than that. By having a view on the matter (he is wrong) and not sharing it what was your motivation? Was it to take a superior position “”I know he is wrong but I shall choose not to tell him”. Or worse ”He is stupid so there is no point in telling him”. Or even worse still ”I have decided for him that he is not strong enough for me to tell him ?”.

    • Karin says:

      No, the yoga teacher did and does not know anything about the other situation, and was not commenting on it.

      The whole point of synchronicities is that two apparently unlinked things happen, it isn’t about one person/situation giving direct feedback on another. It’s about the link you (in this case me, the common denominator) perceives between the two events. So when the toothpaste fell from the heavens, it wasn’t because someone up there had heard the internal dialogue the woman on the street was having with herself about taking care of her teeth! It just happened. Similarly with my two interactions last week.

      I think the question you propose (”your position is illogical-how can you be in favour of growth and development and refuse to try new things ?”)
      is a good one, and I would ask it in many circumstances. I certainly wasn’t ‘caring and sensitive towards him’, I made it clear through my e-mail response that I disagreed. In the circumstances which are too detailed to explain here, I made the best judgment I could in the context of the entire situation at this point in time, and I stand by it. It wasn’t polite avoidance, nor was it pursuing confrontation for the sake of it. The dialogue remains open so there may be a chance to follow up in one of the very rare face-to-face meetings that this situation allows for.

  7. Michael Reid says:

    I understood your Yoga teacher wasn’t privy to your other matter. But if he is fey too he would have been able to know it.

  8. Dody Jane says:

    Michael Reid and Chris – your village events sound just wonderful! Exactly as I picture them. I am a cake baker (I think modern bakeries have ruined what a real cake should taste like) and the idea of all of those cakes is making me salivate.

    Chris – the historical reenactment sounds very fun. One of my favorite things to do is find “living history” museums and wander around. One of the best I have been to is a place called Connor Prairie Village in Indiana. It is a reconstruction of an 1836 frontier village and it is delightful. I hope there is much dressing up and fun at your event.

    When I get to England – I will let you know. I would love to see your village. It sounds delightful. I can not imagine living in a house that was begun in 1640! My house is a Queen Anne built in 1910 and is considered old by Greensboro, NC standards.

    The only thing I can liken your village to is Montana, where my husband is from. His mother and father grew up in very tiny towns and his aunt lived in a darling little one store town (Post Office, grocery, everything in one darling little building) called MOLT. The roads leading to Molt are all gravel and at least ten miles long in any direction.

    Thank you for the fun, vicarious information!

  9. Chris says:

    Two thoughts in one reply.

    Firstly re Karin’s interaction with the yoga teacher. Is there any significance in the fact of their both being teachers? Has each automatically assumed the teacher/leader/guide role without realising that the other hasn’t adopted the student/follower/protegee role? Probably not – a bit deep for me – but I offer it up.

    Secondly I came across a few sentences of conversation in a book yesterday in which one character was questioning why people would believe the most incredible coincidences in real life but wouldn’t buy them if they read them in a book. The answer being, of course, that in real life you have to believe a coincidence that has happened precisely because it HAS happened and is now part of history. And before I knew it I was asking myself whether there is any kind of link between coincidence and synchronicity? But answer came there none.

  10. Karin says:

    Hi Chris, thanks for your comments. The first one is very interesting, good questions. On to the second – Jung defined synchronicities as ‘meaningful coincidences’. Both words are key. The Wikipedia definition is: ‘the experience of two or more events that are apparently causally unrelated occurring together in a meaningful manner. To count as synchronicity, the events should be unlikely to occur together by chance.’ Hope this helps.

  11. Chris says:

    Hi Karin,

    In the cold light of a beautiful crisp autumn morning, when my two brain cells are functioning at their best, all is clear. For a coincidence you only need one event and for synchronicity you need more than one. You always were good at clarifying my thinking for me by opening the door and leaving me to walk through it. Thank you.

  12. Michael Reid says:

    Nothing happening could be both a synchonicity and/or a coincidence.

    Never underestimate nothing.

    ”Wuff, Wuff” (or not).

  13. Chris says:

    Michael, That reminds me of some training I helped Karin with some years back. One of the exercises was about a group of people discussing what was going on. They were told nothing more and nearly all of them started out by saying “What does it mean? Nothing’s going on”. They were then assessed on how they had dealt with the ‘nothing’ scenario. It was all a bit deep and psychological for me. I was glad to be a role player on the coaching team and not one of the students. Remember that, Karin?

    • Karin says:

      Yes, I do remember it well. I loved that experiment which was all about finding what was happening in, or could emerge from, the space. Unanticipated discoveries, at their best. Good memories. Thanks for reminding me, Chris.

  14. Michael Reid says:

    How strange of them , of course something was going on . They sound like people that were happier when being given tasks.

    Nothing is very powerful. In a former life I sometimes had to give talks and presentions to quite large numbers of people. I always stood silently until the whole room was totally silent before I said anything.

    Also when things are going spectacularly wrong its often a good idea to watch , do nothing, and let them get worse. A minor catastrophe is a failure. A major catastrophe is usually an opportunity.

  15. Stephen says:

    I’m confused by the distinction between coincidence and synchronicity. Surely for a coincedence to be a coincedence there has to be a relation between two events – single events occur all the time. Of course there are trillions of events that do not synchronise with anything else so it should be no surprise that we notice the ones that do. Give enough monkeys typewriters and plenty of time and bananas and you will eventually get a Shakespeare sonnet.

    • Karin says:

      Hi Steve, glad you’re back online.

      Synchronicity is basically two events that happen where there is a perceived link between them, eg ‘the same unusual fact coming to someone’s attention from two sources’ within a timeframe. It is not just a coincidence (eg ‘two people meeting in an unlikely spot’), it is a coincidence that is perceived to be meaningful, eg the other day I thought of someone I know and he walked through the door – the synchronicity is the coincidence of me thinking of him and him appearing, this was meaningful to me. If we just met at the door and I hadn’t thought of him in advance, it would be a coincidence but not a meaningful one. Does that make sense? All of this is open to debate, of course.

      The difference all hangs on the word ‘meaningful’. You don’t have to agree or disagree with this definition – it is how Jung defined it and it has given rise to lots of interesting reflections and debate. Hope this clarifies.

  16. Chris says:

    Hi Stephen,

    Since I generally align myself with your views, even down to reading The Times, I was highly amused and greatly comforted to find you prodding again at synchronicity versus coincidence. It has niggled at me a lot and having started the thought in the blog I engaged in an energetic off-blog conversation with Karin about it. She satisfied me (for a few days at least) that ‘meaningful’ is the key. Unfortunately I am now wondering, and trying hard not to, whether everyone’s definition of meaningful would be the same. Conclusion? Synchronicity versus co-incidence = sometimes black and white but sometimes grey.

    • Stephen says:

      Ah such weasel words as meaningful are there just to obfuscate something that is pretending to be something it isn’t – deep and meaningful. I stick with my view that coincedences do occur and the degree of how meaningful they are depends on who has the experience. Taking Karin’s example of thinking of someone and then meeting them maybe synchronicity for Karin but it isn’t for the person she meets, it’s just a coincedence. So same event but two words to describe it – I fail to see the significance.

  17. Chris says:

    Hi again Stephen, You could so easily win me back to your view which is where I started from. I can see what Karin’s getting at but it’s through a glass darkly. I think I’m going to settle for one foot in the theory that all synchronicities are really coincidences and the other in the theory that some concidences may be synchronicities. There – I can rest easy!

    • Stephen says:

      Hi Chris, Don’t be persuaded by the intellectuals and theorists. Stick to what makes sense to you. This basic advice has always worked for me.
      Too many people wrap their thinking up in theories and long explanations and before you know it commonsense has gone out the window and everyone is confused.

  18. Viv says:

    You might very well appreciate a book called “When Oracles Speak” by Dianne Skafte. This speaks of the reading of oracles, real living oracles such as synchronicity and learning their langauge.
    Talking also of questionaires, I recently did one for autism spectrum, and scored a rather shocking 37( 32 and upwards is considered in the autistic spectrum). I was puzzled, somewhat, as I have never been considered in this light before. However, with these questionaires, your motivation for answering a certain question is often not taken into account. When you have only 4 options to choose from and no way of explaining your answer (Q- Which would you rather go to, a party or a museum?) then the results are going to be skewed. So the results are not really meaningful.

    I know I am a little odd, obsessive and hypergraphic, but I am actually too good at reading people and simply become rapidly overwhelmed with too much info (Low latent inhibition/HSP) and that’s why I block stuff.

  19. Viv says:

    Oh and as an extra, I have a good story about synchronicity.
    Some years ago, while on a secluded beach on the Gower penninsula, we spotted a big rock, which had the symbol of the yin-yang on it, white quartzite in black rock. The tide was coming in and I felt such sadness that I could not bring this rock home(far too big and rooted in other rocks), but as I expressed this thought, I glanced at one side of me where I sat, and saw a pebble with the same motif embedded in it, about palm sized and perfect. I took this one home and it remains a powerful symbol of both balance and of allowing the Oracle to speak through the natural world.

  20. Karin says:

    I really like your story, it’s visually very satisfying and it feels like your wish was answered even as it was expressed, by Nature.

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