Synchronicity or what?

I’m a firm believer in synchronicity. By synchronicity I mean that what happens in the external world mirrors what’s going inside us, that we create our future with our intentions and that everything that happens is part of a web of meaning. This has been borne out so many times in my life that I’ve given up doubting it in spite of the majority view that the whole idea is complete boxxocks.

If you’re clever you can use consciously this quality of the universe – you can tap into the web, getting exactly what you want and finding signs everywhere as to what’s going on. Sometimes however – like now, for me – the whole blinking thing is a mystery.

I’ve told you about Ellie and her injury.

I’ve told you about our building work inside and out – the new bathroom, the knocking down of wall, the earth-moving - and I've told you about the sorting out of shed, garage and house.

The new bathroom

I've told you about my mother's death earlier this year and about my mental and emotional clear-outs – the two events from 40 years ago that have haunted me ever since and of which I want to be free.

I haven’t however told you about my email and computer problems. (Skip this bit if you want.)

During the summer I lost all my old emails and destroyed the email programme I was using through my own carelessness. Then, around the time Ellie was injured, I was unable to send or receive messages with the new programme I'd installed. (Not my fault this time.) I'm now unable to keep any records of messages sent, received or deleted and have lost my email address book.

Two weeks ago I got a new computer and as soon as it was plugged in up in my room it started to misbehave. Because our computer expert Ian had had no problems with it in his workshop, Frog and I then tried every possible combination of peripherals (luckily Frog-the-hoarder has a good supply) – screens, keyboards, mice, leads, connectors, sockets, printers, scanners – at the same time running my old computer as a control. The old computer which had appeared to be on its last legs behaved impeccably while the new computer continued to crash. It’s now gone back to Ian for re-testing.

My study looks like computer repair shop. I’m limping along with half an old computer. My files and pictures are all over the place on memory sticks. I'm using four different email programmes. We think we're going to have to try a completely new system of broadband.

The computer repair shop (my study)

Yes, now I come to think about it, there probably is a connection somewhere in all that. But what it means and what the heck I can do about it I don’t yet know.