Entrenched? Try This.

When we surrender in trust, we are always provided for — perhaps not in the way we'd expect or prefer, but which, at a higher octave, serves everyone involved. I know this. And just enjoyed a refresher course in living it.

The other morning, the a.m. radio personality on the station I listen to shared an arresting story.

Colin Cantwell, designer of the Death Star, described how the most memorable scene in the Star Wars franchise came to be:

"George Lucas gave me the project of designing a 'Death Star'. I didn't originally plan for the Death Star to have a trench, but when I was working with the mold, I noticed the two halves had shrunk at the point where they met across the middle. It would have taken a week of work just to fill and sand and re-fill this depression. So, to save me the labor, I went to George and suggested a trench. He liked the idea so much that it became one of the most iconic moments in the film!"

My trench in disguise

This tale foreshadowed the phone call I'd receive later that day. But first, a bit of backstory:

Throughout late August and into the Mercury retrograde that graced much of September, READ THE REST!

A Universe Ringing with 'Yes'

Spiritual humor is delicious, and the transparency of now makes it all the more helpful, if we just keep surrendering, surrendering, surrendering:

Two days ago I took my ancient Toyota in for service. Yesterday, satisfied my trusty little car was again in tip-top shape, I drove around town in near-triple-digit weather (the air conditioner died years ago) doing Friday afternoon errands. At my second-to-last stop, I parked, turned off the engine, and the car was dead. Not even a click.

After I phoned AAA, I watched myself spiral into negative mind chatter, amused that this is still my default setting after all the self work I've done. Like many of us, I've been balancing a lot lately, from a family health crisis to a broken crown that created a spike in my mouth, to a plumbing emergency and someone reneging on a verbal business agreement after I'd completed my half of the exchange. So a minor glitch like a dead car battery (I surmised) shouldn't have made much of a dent in my composure. But I had perishable food in the car in the blazing sun, and suddenly it was the proverbial straw.

I turned to a woman loading her car two spaces away and began spouting frustration, and once she realized I wasn't on a cell phone she came over and held the space for me in an extraordinary way, not only validating what I was sharing but matching it, point by point (e.g., her vehicle, the same age as mine, had failed the day before; her husband is facing surgery, etc, etc). Her equanimity brought me back to center as I explained the car issue wasn't a big deal at all; I just needed a break — and some support!

The tow truck team was fantastic. Eric popped the hood, moved the battery cable a millimeter and the car started up fine. Perhaps the connection came loose during the repairs, or going on and off the lift. I was good to go in about a minute and profoundly grateful. I completed my errands and drove home with the radio on. And this is where the spiritual humor enters in.

KZST in Santa Rosa has a daily game called "Drive o'clock trivia" where, at 5 pm, the DJ asks a question and callers who think they know the answer call in. It's almost always about numbers. Yesterday's question was, "One in 10 people use this business daily. What is it?" And of course I knew. I called and said, "Is it a towing service?" He exclaimed, "It IS a towing service!" I added, "And I know this because I just called them, 90 minutes ago." He said, "Well, I'm sorry that's why you know the answer!" But it was perfect.

This is happening in every realm now, the immediacy and synchronicity of instant return, often in a humorous fashion. It's a good way to stay grounded. Another example: I was discussing with my family member why fall/winter is not an ideal time for surgery, because it's the season of contraction, a time for rest and reflection as Nature releases the old and prepares to go into a dormant state. An hour after the call, I received an email with the subject line, "Honoring the Natural Rhythm of Autumn", which speaks to the mysteries of life and death and how this month is a great time to remember our ancestors as we approach All Souls Day/Day of the Dead.

We are always being answered. The Universe is ringing with love and compassion the moment we have ears to hear. I'm grateful for these Spirited reminders of the wisdom and support that's always available, usually liberally laced with humor. As our journeys continue to heat up, as the whole world awakens in an explosion of confusion and joy, remember the help that is here for us. And be as kind to yourself as you can.

Synchronicity Rising vs. Shopping Away Your Soul

On Thursday, the cross-quarter gateway known as Lammas, with a full Aquarian moon lighting up the sky and the Olympic rings, I had an incredible encounter with a man ahead of me in line at the grocery store. We casually commented that the lines seemed to be moving slowly, and I said, "I think most of the checkers are new; it's not easy to master all those codes on the register. I had to use one at my very first job when I was 16 and (I imitated the hunt and peck motion)." I laughed and said, "Now, of course, we all have computers so we're fast on the keys."

Then I looked at him and said, "Are you old enough to remember what I'm talking about?" He said, "Oh, yes, I'm older than you." 

Naturally, I had to take the challenge so I asked, "How old are you?" He said, "55." I said, "Dude!" and high-fived him. Then I asked, "When's your birthday?" He replied without missing a beat, "2/4/57" ~ which is exactly the way I always say it! I got what I imagine was a look of incredulity on my face and asked, "What time?" Meanwhile he's still processing what's happening, and says, "Wait ~ you're an Aquarian too?" And then he says, "It was sometime early in the morning, like 1 am." I was born just after 1 am. I said, "We're twins!" It was the coolest connection, though I think it flipped him out a little. For me, it was simply "synchronicity rising!"

Contrast this with some construction that's been going on for quite awhile next to the community pool here. The pool is located not far from the freeway onramp, but a stand of trees afforded a measure of privacy and peace. I noticed the greenery was slowly morphing into bulldozers, but had no idea why. Over the weekend I happened to mention some other nearby construction to a young Whole Foods employee, and he referenced the swim site construction by saying, "I'm designing the benches for the mall!" I thought he was making a very dry joke.

But no: the construction by the freeway is a new shopping center underway. Incredulous in a far different manner than during Thursday's heart-sync'd encounter, I said sarcastically, "Oh, I'm sure we need another mall!" That was when he repeated the information about the bench design, and I realized he was serious. I congratulated him on landing the project ~ I always support art, in all its guises ~ but the desecration of nature for human consumption galls me.

In this kairos moment when reclaiming our soul connection is key to personal and planetary evolution, the trees are our allies and guides. We won't realize our life purpose by buying the leopard print tights, but by becoming our wildness ~ not as violence; as an abiding, sensuous connection with Nature and all our planetary kin.

Hey, I grew up in a town that had more shopping malls per square mile than any other; I thought the trees planted inside the mall grew there! And I enjoy a beautiful new outfit as much as the next woman (or guy). The difference is, I know materialism isn't the path to what we might term synchronicitree.

I invite and invoke your primal need to be in natural surroundings, so that the synchronicity I experienced in the market knows how to find you. When you're living in the flow, such encounters will tickle you into joy everywhere ~ and you won't rely on shopping as a way to remember your soul.

Leap Year: Why Our Calendar Is So Weird - And What You Can Do About It

You probably take it for granted: every four years, we add an extra day to the month of February. The month is day-deprived, after all; deserving of an additional 24 hours every now and then.

This may not strike you as peculiar; it's akin to the grade-school rhyme we memorized in a futile attempt to become better spellers: "'i' before 'e' except after 'c', or when sounded as 'a' as in 'neighbor' and 'weigh'." Heck, the English language is way more whacked than the Gregorian calendar!

But this anomaly is only because we adhere to an off-kilter solar cycle. Using the time-keeping system most of the world's been accustomed to since the Middle Ages, we need Leap Years to align the calendar with the Earth’s revolutions around the sun.

Why Leap Year?

It takes the Earth approximately 365.242199 days (a tropical year) to circle once around the Sun. Since a Gregorian calendar year consists of only 365 days, we'd lose nearly six hours every year if we didn't "course correct" every fourth year.

But it gets stranger, Horatio.

Qualifying to be a "Leap Year" is a bit like applying to get into Calendar College: three crucial criteria must be met:

• The year must be evenly divisible by 4;
• If the year can be evenly divided by 100, it is NOT a leap year, unless;
• The year is also evenly divisible by 400.

Yikes! Good thing we have built-in calculators now.

This means the years 2000 and 2400 are Leap Years, while 1800, 1900, 2100, 2200, 2300 and 2500 are NOT leap years.

Got that? There'll be a quiz next lifetime.

The year 2000 was also somewhat special, as it was the first instance when the third criterion was used in most parts of the world since the transition from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar.

Holy Roman Empire, Batman!

If only Julius had stuck to salad dressing. Still, he was more flexible about what constituted a Leap Year than today's criteria. When Caesar introduced Leap Years in the Roman Empire over 2000 years ago, the only rule was that any year evenly divisible by 4 would be a leap year. Evidently Julius' crowd didn't contain too many math wizards. This system has far too many Leap Years, though it wasn't corrected until the introduction of the Gregorian calendar more than 1500 years later.

There may not be a perfect calendar, though there have been other creative options used over the years, such as a 30-day February.

13 Moons of Synchrony

Personally, I've long lived by the 13-Moon, 28-day lunar calendar envisioned by José Argüelles, who proposed it as a way for humanity to leave mechanized time and enter harmonic, natural cycles — the path of synchronicity. In a 13-Moon calendar, every month has a harmonious 28-days (which also corresponds with the female menstrual cycle) — and 13x28 = 364. The additional day is celebrated between July 25th and 26th, which correlates with the heliacal rise of Sirius and is honored as a "Day Out of Time," of peace and celebration. And there's another bonus: on a 28-day monthly system, every Friday is Friday the 13th, a reclaiming of the number thirteen as a sacred symbol of transformation, not something to be feared and avoided.

So I invite you to experience the expansiveness of living in tune with all life. José used to say, "Whoever owns your time, owns your mind. Own your own time and you will know your own mind."

There's never been a better time to leap into this knowing than now, on Leap Day. Blessings!

Are your wells low? Have faith: help IS on the way!

Several years ago, when my own wells were full and a friend was struggling financially, I invited him over for dinner, placing a $50 bill in a holiday gift envelope under his plate. When he saw it, he said, "Oh, I can't accept this!" And I replied, unconcerned about repayment yet with absolute certainty, "Spirit will give it back to me!" READ THE REST

Spirit in Disguise, or Blessed by the Dress!

Here in mid-winter, I recall one summer Solstice week of little miracles and amazing synchronicities that affirmed the ever-present Power within and around us, regardless of how life appears to be going at the moment:

While housesitting in another town, I saw a woman in Whole Foods wearing a beautiful sleeveless summer dress, sprinkled with stars, in all my favorite colors. I spontaneously went up to her and said, "I love your dress!" Whereupon, to my astonishment, she promptly offered to mail it to me if I gave her my address. READ THE REST!

The Magdalene Awakening: Reclaiming the Divine Feminine

For me, the Great Remembering began in illness. On a descent to the depths of my being, I found myself throwing my arms around trees and sobbing, feeling their loving embrace. I began talking to crows, paying tribute to their visceral wisdom in a poem that concluded, "A coded conversation/In guttural cries/Opens my eyes/And lifts me higher." Stunned from exhaustion, I'd never lived in such clarity. With my brain on an extended vacation, I was forced to access a more primitive part of my being, to participate in the instinctual world, not merely watch.

I devoured books such as The Feminine Face of God by Sherry Ruth Anderson and Patricia Hopkins, and The Moon Under Her Feet by Clysta Kinstler, rapt with recognition. I became Inanna, the ancient Sumerian Goddess who symbolizes death and rebirth, with wisdom gained.

These are just a few examples of the myriad ways the Divine Feminine began showing up in my life, as she is now showing up for women (and many men) everywhere. Shannon Andersen, author of The Magdalene Awakening, is a powerful voice in service to this remembering, sharing the essence of the journey she's lived, decoding the sacred symbols and synchronicities that herald the re-emergence of the Divine Feminine on Earth, as reflected in the archetype of Mary Magdalene. READ THE REST!

How to Become a Magnificent Manifester

"Start a huge foolish project, like Noah."

~ Rumi
What do a purple sweatshirt hanging from a tree branch, a loaf of freshly baked bread, a dead car engine on a stormy night, and a magical forest cabin have in common? They're just a few of the inspiring stories I frequently share about the role of synchronicity in our lives, and how learning to recognize it, embrace it, and nurture it can be the key to changing the way we live.

Carl Jung described synchronicity as "meaningful coincidence." One teammate defines it as, "Your file is open and on God's desk." It's about transforming the "efforting" in our lives into ease. Synchronicity happens when we're living in flow rather than in force. And its literal manifestation can be quite humorous. Once, when I was deeply into my own spiritual awakening, I had been imploring the universe, "I want to serve, show me how to serve!" Soon afterward, I received a summons for jury duty.

As we learn how to listen to the "still, small voice" inside us, wondrous events begin to transpire in our lives. One of my best manifestation stories involves finding a secluded mountain cabin to rent when I lived in New Mexico, by following a tapestry of meaningful messages leading me, literally, to the door. The string of synchronicities was so strong that, had I written the story as fiction, I imagine an editor would have rejected it as "too coincidental for readers to believe." But real life is always more amazing — and amusing — than anything we can invent. READ THE REST!

The Burning Times

We've entered the season of Fire, and boy, are we feeling it here in northern California, where the 100+ degree temperatures and heat lightning have touched off hundreds of wildfires, many raging unchecked as there are simply not enough firefighters to attend to all the blazes. Smoke diffuses the sunlight; the air hangs heavy and rank, and we are advised to remain indoors with windows shut.

Amusingly, my favorite healthy cereal heralded this conflagration: when I bought a new box of it several days ago, just before the fires broke out, it tasted charred. I returned it for another, and the second box was the same. It seemed the company had burnt the entire batch. Micro-macro; as above, so below. Coincidence? Not really ...

In these times of alchemical transmutation, when everything that no longer serves must burn clean, synchronicity runs as high as ancient emotions, and promises a wealth of new doorways. I decided to type "fireandwater.com" into a search engine, since Fire and Water is the title of several different articles I've penned and a long-running theme in my life, and behold, it's the site for renowned author Paulo Coehlo, who wrote The Alchemist. So far this is the only book of his I've enjoyed, but I've now found a relevant source for summer reading. The Witch of Portobello is a highly intriguing title, especially for these Burning Times ...