It’s all too easy to dismiss synchronicities or signs like these as chance. But what if they weren't? And what if, by learning to tune into them, you could access a guiding wisdom that would help you overcome challenges and live with purpose?
Dr Tara Swart
The Sign
(Berggren, J; Berggren, M) Performed by Ace of Base
Oh, yeah
I got a new life, you would hardly recognize me
I'm so glad, how can a person like me care for you?
(Ah) why do I bother, when you're not the one for me?
Ooh-ooh-ooh, is enough enough?
I saw the sign
And it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign
Life is demanding without understanding
I saw the sign
And it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign
No one's gonna drag you up to get into the light where you belong
But where do you belong?
under the pale moon, for so many years I've wondered who you are
How could a person like you bring me joy?
Under the pale moon, where I see a lot of stars
Ooh-ooh-ooh, is enough enough?
I saw the sign
And it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign
Life is demanding without understanding
I saw the sign
And it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign
And no one's gonna drag you up to get into the light where you belong
But where do you belong? Oh, oh, oh
I saw the sign, and it opened up my mind
And I am happy now, living without you
I've left you, oh, oh, oh
I saw the sign
And it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign
No one's gonna drag you up to get into the light where you belong
I saw the sign
(I saw the sign, I saw the sign)
(I saw the sign, I saw the sign) I saw the sign
And it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign
*******
Dave's cousin sent me a video from a well-known medium after Rudy's death on the subject of "What every hospice nurse knows about your loved one's final moments", so it's not a huge coincidence that a video popped up for me with an interview with Dr Tara Swart: a medical doctor and psychiatrist who, upon the devastating loss of her husband, began to receive signs "from the other side" that led her to investigate the possibility that consciousness survives death and our lost loved ones do send us messages and guidance. I decided to read her book.
It was interesting enough; particularly the idea that scientists have been trying for over a hundred years to prove that the mind and consciousness naturally arise from the structure of our brains, but they have yet to find the proof — so why not believe that something survives when the body dies? Swart writes about asking her late husband for signs — particularly in groups of three so she knows they're not coincidental — and as that is something I have experienced before (writing about it here and saving an even better story for my Halloween post this year), I didn't need much convincing to embrace Swart's premise. She goes on to explain how to prime yourself to receive even more signs — self-care, experiencing beauty and the arts, surrounding yourself with like-minded and supportive people — and all of that only kind of resonated with me. I recognise that this is nothing like the book reviews I used to write, but if I was giving The Signs a rating, it would be three and a half stars. Five stars to the song. 😉
I was describing all of this to Dave on Sunday as we drove to Woodstock to walk around a toy show and the big antique mall there, and as he was so receptive to the message (he has received so many significant signs since his parents' passings that he needs no further convincing), when one of the first things I saw at the toy show was a giant Wile E Coyote, I told Dave that if I saw two more, I'd know it was a sign from my brother Ken.
We left the toy show and went to the antique mall, and in one of the first booths, I found a second Loonie Toons coyote. In the next booth, Dave found a Laurel and Hardy figurine and said that that felt like a sign from his Dad, and if he found two more, he would consider it so. We talked about if it would be too easy to find what we were looking for in such a big space — could there be twenty of each throughout the mall and the easiest Find Waldo ever, proving nothing? — but we were there to browse so we were willing to see what we would see.
We went up to the third floor and browsed every booth, down to the second floor and found our second Laurel and Hardy. Down to the first floor and there was my third Wile E Coyote. And as we were approaching the last of the booths, I pointed to a ceramic figure on the floor beneath a table; a figure riding a tricycle with its face obscured by the fringe of a tablecloth hanging above it. I pointed it out to Dave — it felt right — and Dave said he didn't think so, but when I cleared the fringe, the figure was definitely Oliver Hardy, the Stan Laurel meant to be standing on the back of the tricycle broken off and laying on the floor.
I have no idea if I should assign significance to the third Laurel and Hardy being broken, but I am intrigued by the fact that I recognised what it might be from just seeing the bottom half of a man on a tricycle; I was definitely drawn to it. And in the end: we saw exactly three and only three of the signs we had asked for; three Coyotes, three Laurel and Hardys. And that does feel like something. Now to figure out what a sign from Rudy might look like.
I saw the sign
(I saw the sign, I saw the sign)
(I saw the sign, I saw the sign) I saw the sign
And it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign
