Hi Erin,
I'm curious what you'll think about this. Bear with me - it's a touch long, but the details are key. A few days after George Harrison's death back in 2002(?), I had the most striking dream in which he and I were kneeling in my childhood bedroom, trying to decide if he would be my mentor. What was striking was the massive amount of love present in the dream between us: giant and piercing and ecompassing of what felt like all the different forms of love that we experience down here (familial, romantic, platonic, etc). The feeling of love exceeded by a mile anything I'd experienced on earth. It felt barely containable.
I had one other dream like it about an acting teacher, with that kind of paradigm-exploding love between us. Both times they were teacher/student, mentor/mentee situations, the giant love dreams like that.
I was never a particular fan of George Harrison before his death - I had just never given him very much thought. I didn't really know what to make of the dream and just sort of let it go, although I certainly took away a greatly increased fondness for him. I just wondered about it from time to time.
But this summer, I read Patti Boyd's memoir, and found that they were married in a small courthouse wedding on the same day that my husband and I were married in a small courthouse wedding. Then I really started to wonder, and then the synchronicities started piling up. Beetles began appearing in the weirdest places - on my scarf at a bridal shower, on the strawberries I'm washing, walking across the book I'm reading.
So I got a psychic reading for my birthday this July, and asked about it - and the reader was startled because she'd been reading a blog she reads on a regular basis that day, and only then noticed that the author has a picture of George Harrison in their author picture slot, and she'd stopped to think about him fondly for a while. She said that yes, he did show up and that we have work to do together and I shouldn't doubt it.
After the reading, which took place in my favorite spiritual bookstore, I browsed around and decided to pick out some presents for myself from George Harrison. At one point, I felt myself being marched (MARCHED, I TELL YOU) to the Paramahansa Yogananda section, and picked a couple of books at random. I ended up choosing the one I did because of a passage about friends you feel an instant affinity for in this life, and how that's a signal that you've shared lives together before. That was the clincher.
Then I get home, and start reading George Harrison's mini-autobiography, "I Me Mine", and lo and behold - he quotes that exact passage from Yogananda, and says he was one of his most important teachers. My hair stood on end. Then I read that he and his second wife had a special relationship with Maui, fell in love and bought a house there - and Maui is where my husband and I met and fell in love and then went back and had our honeymoon and conceived our son.
A few days later I was doing some composing, and tried for fun to write a song for George Harrison. I made a special effort to compose in a key that's out of my comfort zone, to keep things interesting for myself - I chose A. Wouldn't you know, when I go looking in "I Me Mine" to see if there's another reference to Yogananda, I find that he wrote a song for Yogananda called "Dear One". It's the only song he ever wrote in the key of A in his life.
These are just the juicier ones. The list of synchronicities goes on, but life is short and you can't read this post all day.
So, you know....
dude. I know I got the thumbs up from the psychic I saw on my birthday, but I'm curious about your instant hit on it. Because when you're talking about an ex-Beatle, the skepticism and doubt instinct really wants to rear up and take over. It's just like that thing where, you know, we weren't all Napoleon and Cleopatra in our past lives... Maybe it's also a group thing, right? Like I'm somebody on the right wavelength for the George Harrison radio broadcast.
I figure when that much love shows up anywhere, that has got to signify, even if it isn't totally personal. But I'll tell you, it feels personal.
What do you think, mama?
Tina Rowley
The Gallivanting Monkey