Today, in a moment of waiting, my thoughts turned to what I think of as incoming psychic impressions. And it followed that I experienced a relatively significant synchronicity because of this.
I remember the thought impression flowing through my mind that my understanding of the flow and flux of reality has been approaching the level of premonition–simply by observing 'the signs' so-to-speak. But, my mind said with an air of irritation and dismissal, there will always be some little kid there to create some kind of diversion before a process can complete itself. My eyes were resting on an image torn from some magazine of a little kid with a huge halo of hair and big eyes as he played a full-scale trumpet for the camera.
As soon as I had this thought my less-spacey mind jumped to attention. I found the thought so odd that I thought it must have been a creative tactic to reorient my attention to something more important. This seems to be the way of the inner mind's dialogue with itself when I am in a space of practicing the 'symbolic attitude', as Jung has called it. My impulse was to reach for the most recent publication to hand. As it happens this was a magazine called 'USC Trojan Family'.
The article I opened to is the one seen in the image above (p. 18 from the Winter 2014 edition). It tells a story of a female student who inhabits the beautifully constructed costume representing the school's mascot, Tommy Trojan. Amy, the student, speaks of donning the costume as an opportunity to shape-shift.
For anyone following my work, the synchronicity begins to present itself with this concept: shape-shifting. Upon reading this I gained some feeling of insight into the original strange thought that had floated through my head–the one about some kid (or fool-like novice,) always appearing to throw things off a bit. Is this the way of our cosmic mobius-strip? Have you also noticed the way in which reality begins to echo-back a remix of those energies we have consciously (more or too less,) been sending forward?
Even in complete silence our thoughts can be heavy-laden with nuanced mental-annotations–that little voice, that narrative that comprises our inner experience. Believe truly, there is no such thing as a holistic saint.
