Monday, August 1, 2022

The broad purpose of synchronicity is to alter consciousness and induce new kinds of thinking

From the conclusion of Mike Clelland's book The Messengers: Owls, Synchronicity, and the UFO Abductee:

[P]ulp sci-fi publisher Ray Palmer . . . said that flying saucers intrude into our lives to make us think. I would amend that to say that they intrude into our lives to make us think deeply. The same could be said for owls. . . .

Those owls at sunset didn't grant me enlightenment or anything so grand, instead they initiated a process of crumbling. Some brittle part of me started falling away and something new has been trying to emerge. . . .

I have changed. I now see magic in the world around me. It's woven into the fabric of everything. This might seem naive, but I see owls, UFOs, and synchronicity as an expression of this magic, all blurring together and playing a similar role. These are deeply challenging ideas, but they are also seductive, and they've been tugging at my soul.

I agree entirely with this assessment, and I find Clelland's formulation of it to be helpfully clarifying. The primary purpose of synchronicity, and of the elusive nonhuman intelligences that are inextricable from it, is to elicit -- patiently, often over the course of many years -- new ways of thinking and of being. Clelland's title refers to messengers, but this is clearly a case in which the medium is the message.

Whitley Strieber has expressed a similar idea many times, saying that the close-encounter experience is primarily "a process of creating questions that can neither be borne nor answered," and that it is in this way that other worlds are helping our own.

I understand what Clelland means when he refers to "some brittle part of me . . . falling away" under the influence of synchronicity (mediated, in his case, by owls). Looking back, I think I can even say that synchronicity had its role to play in awakening me from my dogmatic slumber and leading me by slow degrees out of the narrow desert of dismissive materialism and back into the fold of Christ. I refer not to any particular synchronicity, not to any dramatic "conversion experience," but to a gradual falling away of brittleness through an influence as patient and diffuse as the love of one's parents.

Despite having a rather idyllic childhood, I secretly spent a rather large portion of it in a state of abject terror. In very early childhood, this took the form of a paralyzing fear of "bad dreams" and of "monkeys" and "bugs" coming into my room at night. This led to insomnia, and when my parents offered the advice that one good way of falling asleep is to close one's eyes and pretend to be asleep, they had no way of knowing that what they were suggesting was absolutely impossible, that I could no more do it than I could jump off a cliff. (My 2013 poem "The Bugs" deals with this chapter in my life.)

Around the age of 11 or 12, I discovered the works of Whitley Strieber, which terrified me more than anything I had ever read and provided a sort of nucleus around which free-floating terror could congeal. As late as my college years, I suffered from an intermittent but extreme fear of the dark which was very difficult to overcome, even though I constantly challenged it by taking a night job and walking home every morning at 4 a.m.

When I became an atheist, fear stopped as if it had been turned off with a tap. (When I was 17, I had written an essay arguing that atheism was a response to the fear of the dark. It's a bit rich that five years later, with zero self-awareness, I myself dealt with my fear of the dark by turning to atheism!) I had decided that I no longer lived in a supernatural world, and the disquieting aspects of the supernatural obligingly withdrew. This disappearance of fear -- not a manic sort of fearlessness at all but a bored fearlessness -- was extremely abrupt, and I noted it at the time and found it somewhat disturbing even though I had to admit it was perfectly rational. (Under atheism, there are no stakes and nothing matters, so what the hell is there to be afraid of?)

Somewhat surprisingly, the return of faith has not brought a return of fear. The supernatural is back, and of course some aspects of it are extremely malevolent, but I'm just not scared of it anymore. It's neither mania nor ennui this time, but just a calm sense of being "persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rom. 8:38-39; I think Paul also exhibited non-manic fearlessness). 'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fear relieved.

Why am I writing all this in a post about synchronicity? I don't know, it just seemed relevant somehow.

I think some people resist synchronicity because it is fundamentally irreverent, blending the absurd with the holy and stubbornly refusing to recognize the demarcation that separates the sacred from the profane. I have sometimes had occasion on this blog to apologize for, well, the vulgarity of some of the sync fairies' links, and of course I've just been going on about how St. Michael's defeat of the Dragon is related to the nonsensical palindrome "Mr. Owl ate my metal worm."

I no longer really object to this, obviously. The Hebrew word for "holy" means "separate," but the English word holy means "whole."

Another little synchronicity: In this post, I included a link to my old poem "The Bugs," which describes a technique I used to use as a very young child in order to fall asleep without closing my eyes first: visualizing two clouds, one on either side of my head, and trying to focus on them both at the same time. Just before finishing the post, I went into the kitchen and saw that my wife had bought a drink from a tea stand and that the cup was decorated with this image:


Ra1119bee said...


Very Well Said.

This is exactly my perspective as well.

In my 2007 Hawk experience which I shared with you, I believe the connection of Mr.
Hawk and that fact that my experience was not explainable, at least not logically
is not a coincidence.

I believe synchronicities during our waking life are messages from the Soul, which transcends our 'nightly' messages from the Soul.

In my case the message being the interchangeability of Hawks with Owls, and the fact that the hawk 'rules' the daytime/The SUN.

The Egyptian Deity RA in mythology was the god of the sun, order, kings and the sky.
Ra was portrayed as a falcon and shared characteristics with the sky-god Horus.

Although as stated, I personally source my information from a vast spectrum of ideologies, including Egyptian mythologies, however I am NOT a firm believer in All of anything.

It's interesting that in the belief of an ideology called The Law of the One, the Tears
of RA,are those whose name incorporates the word RA, either suffix or prefix.
The tears of Ra are also known as bees.
My given name is DEBRA and in Hebrew means Bee.
And that's NOT to say that ALL Debra's are the Tears of Ra.

Again, I am not saying that I believe in any ONE particular ideology, because
I absolutely DO NOT.

Although I do believe that our Soul has incarnated into many skins, and many cultures
and beliefs, and that perhaps, like a spider web , there are many threads/roads' to home.

However I do find it intriguing my hawk experience as perhaps the message was that I had 'died' to the Sun i.e. my Ego.

The sun is our waking time, usually the time when our EGO is at the helm.
When the Ego is at the helm, we try to rationalize logically all that we see and all that we 'hunt/quest much like the Hawk in the daytime.

However it is when we go within (the darkness, symbolic of the Owl and the Soul, which the Soul holds all of the Sacred Science knowledge).

I believe and as stated many times on your blog that it is our Soul(which I believe
is connected to God) is where our REAL power source lies.

And yes I believe our experiences within are absolutely unexplainable
(and as it should be).
Knowledge has to be learned and earned and not all are up to the task.
However I believe that we must go through the dark to get to the light.

When we (Humanity) evolve is only when we incorporate both Sun and Moon and we begin
to 'see' through our Third Eye and transcend the 'illusion' of this duality dimension.

So, regarding the interchangeability of the Owl and the Hawk,
maybe Hendrix said it best; "What if 6 turns out to be 9"?

All IMO, of course...

Ra1119bee said...


I also wanted to share my thoughts on your nightmares about the bugs and monkeys.
Perhaps your Soul was " bugging" you towards the light.. like a moth to a flame.

I found these definitions of the word bug interesting:

put a bug in (someone's) ear Informal
To impart useful information to (another) in a subtle, discreet way.

. bugged, bug·ging, bugs
To grow large; bulge: My eyes bugged when I saw the mess.
a. To annoy; pester.
b. To prey on; worry: a memory that bugged me for years.
2. To equip (a room or telephone circuit, for example) with a concealed electronic listening device

a. A defect or difficulty, as in a system or design.
b. Computers A defect in the code or routine of a program.


Also, recall my commentary on your blog
about the movie The 12 Monkeys with Brad Pitt
and Bruce Willis.

Maybe the Monkey is ; the MOON'S KEY.

I believe and I've shared many times on your blog, that through our Soul, we receive the Moon's Key every night in our REM sleep.
The key to the moon will unlock all of that we need to know to help us navigate
through this wilderness our Soul has 'fallen' down into.

When we awake from our sleep, the EGO is at the helm, and those very important messages, like mist, quickly dissipates, courtesy of our Ego.

However the Soul persists again and again to try to get the message(s) to us, especially if the message is dire, until that persistence becomes nightmares and abruptly wakes us up
(as Fear will always do)... or if we still ignore the message, the Soul will transcend the Ego and in our waking time will place in our path 'odd' experiences which, I believe, are synchronicities.

IMO, there is no such thing as linear time and the Soul 'knows' that the information we gathered, be it two minutes ago, last year, 30 years ago, or in past incarnations.... or yesterday.... are all pieces of a puzzle to help us see through the illusion when it's time to do so.

What's that saying?; God may be slow, but he's always on time.

Ra1119bee said...


I don't mean to hijack your blog with all my comments
, but I just found this article and find it quite
interesting and perhaps is on topic to this post
especially regarding the recent dialogues of Owls and Hawks.

Yesterday I couldn't help but notice that the word OHIO is actually
the letter H (omitting the vowels)

I think I shared with you the intriguing information about Ohio and especially Dayton
being the home of a vast percentage of inventors and inventions that has changed the course of history.
Dayton being the Silicon Valley of its day.

I knew one of the band members(who played the Horn) of The Ohio Players and the family of the founder (Johnnie Wilder) of the band Heatwave lived 2 doors away from my family in the same apartments where I grew up.
Both bands are from Dayton Ohio.
What's interesting is that one of The Ohio Player's songs is titled: O-H-I-O (see link)

Doing a bit of research today, I found this VERY intriguing article
about the Letter H and Lo and Behold there is reference to the Owl (the Owl illustration) and Hawk.

Also interestingly, the two pillars of the H (minus the bridge), resembles 11.,Karma%2C%20meaning%20%E2%80%9Cyou%20shall%20reap%20what%20you%20sow%E2%80%9D.

Ohio Players OHIO

WanderingGondola said...

Thank you, William, I think I needed to hear this. Combined with the lion sync yesterday (see my comment on "The Locust Grove crop circle"), it sends the message (heh) that I shouldn't be fearful of syncs or any of my other oddities. Synchronicity is still a very new occurrence for me, and so far the stronger a connection's been, the more it's weirded me out. I hope that, as I come to accept these things, that feeling will ease.

Coincidentally, I too was afraid of the dark until my late teens, preferring to sleep with a light on somewhere nearby. Now I consider it, it may have had to do with not being able to see.

They have a fight, Triangle wins, Triangle Man

A monster made of hundreds of tiny triangles