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Not being special

I love Robert Moss’s books; they’re inspiring, wise and lucid. He mirrors my understanding back to me – that we belong here, that life has meaning and the cosmos actively wants to communicate this to us. Also, he does this in a very practical, down-to-earth way: this communication, through dreams, oracles or signs, is quite ordinary; it’s just how the world works.

And… those same books can also leave me with an ugly little blob of negative reactions: an unsavoury case of comparisonitis, with symptoms of ‘it’s not fair,’ inferiority, and ‘impostor syndrome’. Let me explain…

Moss was very ill as a child, almost died, and feels this has left him with some unique ‘world-bridging’ qualities. It seems he routinely has prophetic dreams – those are the ordinary ones for him. (Then there are all the dreams where he is visited by sages and spirit guides.) When he sits down to contemplate a decision, a hawk drops a feather into his lap. All the random encounters he has on his journeys lead to profound and meaningful conversations. And so on. Robert Moss is special.

Me? Really not special at all. I was robustly healthy as a child – missed less than a week of school in total. The huge majority of my dreams are along the lines of ‘I can’t find the classroom!’ or ‘We have more tins of soup than I thought.’ When I sit down outdoors to contemplate, I get half-eaten by the bugs from hell. And random encounters on journeys? Well…

In June, I travelled by train to visit my brother. It’s a long-ish train journey there, with time to think; I spent it contemplating my reading for the week, 36 unchanging, and re-reading Sidewalk Oracles (and getting back in touch with my inner negativity-blob).

Waiting on the train platform at the start of my journey home, I met a friendly young man who came over to start a conversation. We had the ‘where are you headed?’ exchange, and then he eagerly told me all about the top-of-the-range, brand new Mercedes he was just purchasing and having delivered to his home so he would be the very first person to drive it (and would never again have to go near a train). He was open, kind and generous with his time, leaving me with a warm glow as I boarded the train – and the blob twitching in wry amusement.

A few hours later, at another station, I walked along to the end of the platform to find a quiet bench to wait on. From a distance, I noticed someone had left some pennies behind, neatly laid out in a line along one of the slats of the bench.

bench with coins

Remembering the 6 coin method of casting, I thought I would walk up to the bench and read off the hexagram they ‘spelled’. There were actually 7 coins; I would start from the one nearest to me, and read 6 lines.

Here they are (click the photo for a larger version):

It’s not a very good photo, but the coins read tails-heads-tails, heads-heads-heads. Hexagram 36.

The coins some stranger decided to line up, for some unguessable reason, on that particular bench, on that particular platform of that station, on the day I happened to be travelling through, displayed my reading for the week: Brightness Hiding.

I realised that synchronicity, being guided, meaningful dreams… these are not about the person who receives them; they have nothing to do with the qualities of that individual, ‘special’ or otherwise. They’re a quality of the universe – what’s real. It’s just that sometimes the reality is easy to see, and sometimes it’s hidden.

A hidden light doesn’t cease to exist. When I can’t see it, that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

7 responses to Not being special

  1. Dear Hilary,
    Thank you for the above which I find intriguing. A few days ago I read somewhere – can’t remember where. That if you see 777, 70 or just 7 where you are not expecting to, it is a sign that you are in for a wonderful surprise or experience. The following evening I was on my way home from a woodcarving class and had to slow down to avoid a bus, the registration on the bus in large red numbers was 777, then the next day I noticed 70 (can’t remember where) today you tell us about your 7 coins and show us a picture of a book en-titled 7 Ways to Live a Reading. I shall await my wonderful surprise or experience! I had better buy the book as well. With love Annie.
    P.S. I had no real intention of reading all you have written today as I’m supposed to be spring cleaning.

  2. “I realised that synchronicity, being guided, meaningful dreams… these are not about the person who receives them; they have nothing to do with the qualities of that individual, ‘special’ or otherwise. They’re a quality of the universe – what’s real. It’s just that sometimes the reality is easy to see, and sometimes it’s hidden.
    A hidden light doesn’t cease to exist. When I can’t see it, that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”

    Something that worries me about references to ‘messages from the universe’ is the lack of distinction about the source or purpose of the message. This came home to me most forcefully when I was involved with someone who said she was in constant contact with her spirit guide which appeared to lead to her finding some very strange messages. The most disturbing one, the one that really made me wonder if we ought to be far more discriminating about apparent omens or signs, is when she showed me a picture on her phone of 2 dead rabbits she had seen on a bridge. These rabbits were placed head to toe, symmetrically, they were straightened, someone had obviously arranged them, they didn’t just happen to be there. I couldn’t get a warm ‘this is a message from the universe’ from this. I thought it was weird and macabre. She found further odd things and I felt it was time for me to be way more discriminating about unseen energies or manifestations, we cannot just call it all ‘the universe’. I think one has to ask oneself what the purpose of such things are and more importantly what they serve. She said she was quite clear the message from the universe was to do with personal transformation. I felt it was dark, not something good whatever it was.

    So I was wondering about those pennies because I found that somehow slightly disquieting, too deliberate, weirdly supernatural. But I wasn’t there so what I’m interested in is how it felt for you because that’s the most important factor, your sense of it. I wasn’t at all sure from this Blog what you really made of the event nor how the young man played a role in the story as he seemed disconnected to it. I wondered if his blatant materialism was a 36ish thing but you said you had a glow after talking to him about his f new car then you found the pennies. I don’t know what you made of finding those pennies ?

    • At the time I just saw the young man as a) a very kind, friendly young man and b) further proof that these deep & meaningful synchronistic encounters did not happen to me. (Could also see it as demonstrating that human encounters do not need to be deep & meaningful to be worthwhile.)

      The coins… awe-inspiring, filled me with joy. I see what you mean – they’re uncanny, almost too much. But in the context (of my thinking and the hexagram they showed), that was just part of the giant cosmic sense of humour.

  3. “At the time I just saw the young man as a) a very kind, friendly young man and b) further proof that these deep & meaningful synchronistic encounters did not happen to me. (Could also see it as demonstrating that human encounters do not need to be deep & meaningful to be worthwhile.)”

    Quite. These deep meaningful chance encounters only seem to occur in books about inner guidance and so on.

    “The coins… awe-inspiring, filled me with joy. I see what you mean – they’re uncanny, almost too much. But in the context (of my thinking and the hexagram they showed), that was just part of the giant cosmic sense of humour.”

    Yes when I first read about the coins I sort of didn’t much like the feel of it because it was too deliberate, uncanny and of course it was 36 too. But if you felt joy then my misgivings are alleviated. The joy didn’t come across to me in the Blog as you wrote it very much as if we could make what we wanted of it.

    The incident seems somewhat at odds with the message of the blog about not being special because of course that incident was pretty supernaturally special. Oh maybe that’s what you meant about the cosmic humour.

    Apart from that of course you’re special, everyone knows that 🙂

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