by Jennifer Palmer
Synchronicity is an experience that’s felt with the heart and body and not a concept to be understood with the mind. As synchromystic pioneer Jake Kotze points out, it’s not WHAT syncs that’s important—it’s THAT it syncs. By clinging to what we think a synchronicity means we put blinders on our awareness and risk missing out on a larger experience of the infinite irrationality of universal oneness.
Gary Bobroff writes:
“In synchronicity, the world reveals its nearness to us. It is active and responding to our inner life producing meaning to help us grow, but can we drop our ego’s need to make that meaning fit into a pretty little heart-shaped box for us?”
The philosopher Jose Arguelles believed that an increase in reports of synchronicity was a sign that humanity had entered its next stage of evolution: the activation of the noosphere and a truly planetary consciousness. In addition to synchronicity, this stage would also see an increase in psychic phenomenon and channeling:
“…in the Noosphere, as long as all beings attain to cosmic consciousness, all beings are artists, and therefore all beings are cosmic channels. This is not so different from the pre-noospheric era of the mobile phone, which functions as every person’s channel. But the mobile phone channel is a closed system limited to the extent of the power and scope of one’s ego. The artist/beings who attain cosmic consciousness transcend egoic limitations and commune directly with different orders of galactic being and intelligence, informing their modes and forms of expression with a universal appeal.” (Jose Arguelles, Manifesto for the Noosphere, 161)
Taken as a symptom of a larger evolutionary process, sync is not about who or what is syncing but rather the opening up of a direct line of communication with the earth and cosmic intelligence. When we become aware of synchronicity, we’re tuning in to the frequency upon which we may receive information from advanced galactic neighbors, who have been patiently waiting for us to evolve to the point in which we can download their intergalactic data. According to Arguelles, once the noosphere is activated, our mind will “act like the tympanum of a drum receiving the higher-dimensional impulses of cosmic civilization and then transducing these into frequencies that are accessible to the human mind operating through the electromagnetic resonances of the brain.” These messages get expressed through art and science. Arguelles looks through history at individuals with revolutionary work such as Tesla and John Lennon and believes that at various points they were channeling cosmic information, whether consciously or unconsciously.
While I’m not sure of all the details, I believe that Jose Arguelles was one of these gifted seers that he wrote about and that the noosphere or something similar to it is in the process of being activated. It is coming on line—a mix, I believe, of technology, plant power and ET tech support that will help humanity solve some of its biggest problems. In our movie, “Time is Art’, we loosely tell my story of opening up to these other levels of reality, a process I’m still going through today. Our intention was and is to let synchronicity guide us in the telling of my story, which is the same story that many others are experiencing as we evolve collectively. By inviting synchronicity in, each member of the crew opened themselves to being changed both personally and artistically.
One of the most difficult parts of the journey so far was the day we shot in the Mission in SF. Synchronistically, this was the same day we “accidentally” captured footage of a UFO flying over the trees and phone lines, a few seconds of eerie strangeness that makes me feel vaguely ill each time I watch it. It wasn’t until the footage was discovered later that I realized that it was filmed (again, unintentionally, as the camera appears to have turned on by itself while the crew was in transit) at around the same time I nearly passed out on the escalator at the BART station after parting ways from Joel, Katy and Maia. While there’s no way to prove it, I believe the information I received through my body and the information captured on film were a part of the same message.
It had been a long day of shooting in the sun, and I was feeling it. About halfway up the escalator taking me out of the underground, everything went completely black, and I nearly fell backwards down the stairs. I held on to the rubber bannister and somehow willed myself to stay on. I could feel the vibrations of the machine so strongly I thought my heart would stop. It felt like every nerve in my body was tingling–like a wave of data was smashing down on my body. I thought I was dying and it was only the memory of a recent, difficult ayahuasca ceremony that helped me keep it together until I made it to the top. I slumped against the wall of the Bart station, alone, unable to move and not daring to go up the next escalator to get to street level. I waited, hoping the feeling would pass, but it didn’t. I was so weak I couldn’t even ask for help, and no one offered. They walked by me same as New Yorkers, avoiding eye contact and hurrying past. I realized I was all alone, with one gulp of water in my canteen bottle left. There was an intense shaking in my body and a noise in my ears. I was frightened and humbled as I considered the prospect of crawling up the stairs on all fours. But even then, I could still fall backwards. Finally, I made my way to the elevator, the floor of which was covered with piss, and after waiting for what felt like hours I floated up to the surface, where the doors opened and I hurried out to gulp in the cool air.
“Did you hear it?” An apparently homeless man asked as I stood with my hands on my knees. I say this because he was so dirty he appeared to be coated in a layer of light brown dust. It was impossible to tell his race or age.
“Did you hear it?” he asked again, his voice more urgent than angry.
“Hear what?” I said, my voice shaking, sensing a confrontation.
He didn’t answer but gave me a long, piercing look like he couldn’t believe my question–like I was the one who was crazy. I quickly stepped away and went to a nearby café where I drank several ice teas in a row, and it wasn’t until I saw the UFO footage that I thought of him and what he asked again.
UPDATE: Upon reading this post, Katy pointed out that Maia can be heard saying, “I can hear it” on the UFO clip–a stunning synchronicity with the homeless man’s question that I’m surprised I didn’t notice.
Time is Art 