Bird Droppings July 24, 2025
The impact of synchronicity, or perhaps you could say, in my life, the saga of synchronicity

I’m sitting in my backyard beside my medicine circle. We’ve got two wind chimes, and every once in a while, the chimes will sound as the breeze picks up. I just walked through my yard looking at what flowers were blooming, and I’m always amazed at the Datura. It seems like the white is so white, and I’ve always enjoyed the unfurling of the flowers as they bloom. Who knows what the day brings? I’m going to try and go take my grandson for a walk and take some pictures of some deer. You never know what you might find. Yesterday I got excited by a baby armadillo. I chased off the road so he wouldn’t get hit. I found a Hercules beetle of all things hadn’t seen one in a few years. So I’m just sitting here listening, then what capacity can I have without my hearing aids? It’s funny, I don’t hear birds, almost few of the birds. Very few birds. Do I hear? I hear Carolina runs, and I can hear Carolina wrens, finches, warblers other small birds. I don’t hear I have to use my Merlin app to know that they’re out there. Here we are in a new day, a new morning. It’s cold this morning compared to other mornings this week. Some decisions to make today as I sit down at my computer, do I wanna go back and teach do I want to simply be a student? My being a student and student teacher, I will be working with teachers who know that maybe some of this old man’s wisdom will rub off back door my way into teaching teachers. It is going to be a beautiful day.

I often write of coincidence; it may seem boring to some. It is a never-ending saga of special moments, one after the other. During a college graduate class, we discussed science and measuring data. Intuition and coincidence, it seems, are difficult commodities to evaluate. Carl Jung split with Sigmund Freud over similar matters and coined synchronicity. Yesterday, as I was talking, it seemed I never stopped. I was drawn to the door of my room here on B-hall, and as I stepped out, a friend passed by exactly as I stepped to the door. There was a friend with a problem. If I had been a few seconds later, that friend would have already passed my room. I was drawn to the door like a moth to a flame. At that moment, I wondered if it was meant to interfere with getting involved in the problem or offering advice or questions. Was it a coincidence, perhaps simply a chance happening, or was it synchronicity, as Jung would proclaim?

“The images of the unconscious place a great responsibility upon a man. Failure to understand them, or a shirking of ethical responsibility, deprives him of his wholeness and imposes a painful fragmentariness on his life.” Carl Jung

“Love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence.” Eric Fromm

Which direction do we go as we try to unravel the human condition, the frail substance we have evolved from? Can we separate, categorize, analyze, and measure what makes us human versus a pack animal?

“Man may be defined as the animal that can say ‘I,’ that can be aware of himself as a separate entity. “Eric Fromm

“The mind is like an iceberg; it floats with one-seventh of its bulk above water.” Sigmund Freud

“The path of least resistance and trouble is a mental rut already made. It requires troublesome work to undertake the alteration of old beliefs. Self-conceit is often regarded as a sign of weakness to admit that a belief we have once committed ourselves to is wrong. We get so identified with the idea that it is a “pet” notion, and we rise to its defense and stop our eyes and ears to anything different.” John Dewey

When beset with an issue or problem, we often fall victim to the easiest route: “least resistance, least trouble,” as John Dewey would say. Years ago, my father used an iceberg as an illustration in a book on Loss Control management. We only see one-seventh of the problem. As we journey through life, we are only one-seventh visible. Some six-sevenths stay hidden away, secreted somewhere from view.

“Thus, we see that the all-important thing is not killing or giving life, drinking or not drinking, living in the town or the country, being unlucky or lucky, winning or losing. It is how we win, how we lose, how we live or die, and finally, how we choose.” R. H. Blyth

It is how we choose that is important. Each day for several years since I began this morning endeavor, I have talked of the journey in life. I had used as a screen saver my son’s image crossing a stream in north Georgia, stepping stone by stone across a rippling, rolling stream. My son is soaking wet and could have just as easily walked the stream and avoided falling from the rocks. He was wet already, but he chose to step on the slippery rocks. His challenge was doing it, making the journey, not simply surviving.

“Everything on the earth has a purpose, every disease a herb to cure it, and every person a mission. This is the Indian theory of existence.” Mourning Dove – Salish

This becomes difficult to explain how the problem has a purpose and how a human issue has reason in the world of measurement, where non-measuring is constant and so often the point. I can never find the distance between the stones of the stream as my son’s footsteps fall, crossing rock by rock.

“You can never cross a stream the same way twice,” a Zen saying.

“Traditional people of Indian nations have interpreted the two roads that face the light-skinned race as the road to technology and the road to spirituality. We feel that the road to technology has led modern society to a damaged and scarred earth. Could it be that the road to technology represents a rush to destruction and that the road to spirituality represents the slower path that the traditional native people have traveled and are now seeking again? The earth is not scorched on this trail. The grass is still growing there.” William Commanda, Mamiwinini, Canada, 1991

Going from a single person’s problem to that of the North Slope of Alaska may seem a stretch. But as we journey in life, we do not get to replay our hand once we lay the cards on the table. Yesterday, by chance, somewhere before 4:00 AM, I was reading an old National Geographic and how the oil fields are so enticing in the Wilds of Alaska. After nearly fifteen years of protection, the current administration is trying to open it for oil exploration. Greedy people see only money. Others see the loss of habitat, wildlife, and wilderness that can never be replaced. Another amazing coincidence this morning, I could not pull this up. It disappeared, and I wrote another piece, which I emailed instead yesterday. As I look at each, it is time for this one today and now for this good follow-up; peace, my friends. Have a good evening, and please keep all in harm’s way on your minds and hearts and always give thanks, namaste.

My family and friends, I do not say this lightly,
Mitakuye Oyasin
(We are all related)
docbird