Tag: synchronicity

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Today’s Visit

28 March 2024

Torrents of rain continued up the East Coast and lingered over Long Island all day today. Sometimes stronger showers, sometimes cold drizzle but always weighing heavy, an impassible slow-moving storm system on this dragging day.

In the morning, by chance, I found a Holy Thursday celebration in Rome on Vatican Media. Pope Francis in Rome at a correction facility, Rebibbia Prison, and this year, he washed the feet of only women. The humility in his words and actions exemplified heartfelt service to be learned through His Example. To witness this, in a precarious world that we are witnessing today, brought me tears.

In 2021, during the winter of the pandemic, I met Maria. She was collecting bottles and cans for recycling in the neighborhood. We met, exchanged introductions and thus began a connection. Now, in 2024, I make it a point to call, reserve my cans and bottles for her biweekly pickup, along with any food or household items I may find during weekly shopping trips. She always stops by 1pm if she can make it. Today, I called in the morning to confirm her arrival. No answer. I left a few text messages, but no reply. The usual 1pm hour came and went, but no sign or return call from Maria. Then by about 1:40pm a message. “I am around…I’ll be there.”

By 2pm, I noticed someone at the door. Maria was standing at the front door, drenched from the rain rolling down her raincoat. She met me with a broad smile, seemingly without a concern or care in the world. “My car broke down. This is my son.” Next to her, a tall, lean adolescent boy, maybe about 14 or 15 years old with a gentle, kind gaze smiled at me. I extended my arms with a full bag of groceries and placed it in the young man’s grasp.

There he was, still smiling as he accepted the bag. Maria stood alongside him, very proud of the young man accompanying her, helping her maneuver this moment in their life, on this recreation of this Holy Thursday – the last visit of Jesus with His Disciples, in acceptance of both the positive and negative and appreciating life as it unfolds with smiles, kindness, and a gentleness that struck me as a level of spirituality that is rare these days. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God…” Matthew:5

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Nothing By Chance

23 March 2024

As I waited for an arrival home tonight, I knew friends were due over for a catch-up visit, so I decided to bake something. After some deliberation I finally settled on something quick, easy, tried and tested.  I had a recipe I hadn’t used in years – Tahini oatmeal cookies – 3 ingredients.  Tahini, brown sugar, oatmeal and a dash or two of cold water. Mix & bake. I had found the recipe on one return trip from Italy in a flight magazine. They reminded me of yet another coincidence- a kind, soft-demeanored priest who used to preside over an Eastern rite church that I attended many years ago. He baptized family members. When in the midst of dark days, no insurance coverage, teaching layoff without recompense or recognition, and nowhere to turn, he was one of three good Samaritan souls who entered into the swirling fears to be of comfort. As I stirred the batter, my mind recalled my 3 year old daughter pushing the 911 phone buttons to relay information from me to emergency services so that an incapacitating compound fracture could be potentially healed. Without question, this priest arrived and took care of anything that needed to be arranged.


This Middle-Eastern priest helped me through some very dark days. He was shunned in later years from the church. I had heard rumors… But none of that mattered then, and as I reflect, it matters even less now… The kindness and compassion he always gave meant more to me and I am sure to so many others when feeling alone and confused, unloved and lost.

When we care for and about others, a part of their culture is also shared with you. Growing up, I had the gift of learning about differences – ethnicities, cultures, mannerisms, preferences, lifestyles…almost an introduction to an ever-changing universe of transformation. To find the beauty in diversity is to appreciate creation, to be open to Love wherever It is made manifest.

The spontaneity of a tahini cookie recipe brought all those memories of a kind, generous, loving priest willing to care flooding back to me.  I pray for him wherever he is, as I am grateful that he and others reach into darkness to bring others Light, Peace, and direction.

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Cosmic Color Palette

30 September 2023

As the rains and floods in the metro NY and Long Island areas came to a three-day close, the Heavens spoke silently to those who raised their eyes and hearts to feel, perceive and see.

Believe in Truth, and you shall still rise. Practice Love, and you shall still rise.

Trust in The Word, and you shall still rise. Become the Power of Goodness, and you shall still rise.

Then, The Unseen Hand began to swirl tones of French and English lavender, pinks and coneflowers onto the azure canvas that stretched from the sole horizon from East to West and from South to North into Eternity …and October began in brilliant sunshine.

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Under the Leaves

26 September 2023

An urging restlessness returned my thoughts to the usual mental debate for this autumn Tuesday. “I know no one there. No one knows me. Should I go?” Then I began thinking of New York City in the 1920s and 1930s.

Images of my father’s Brooklyn neighborhood popped in my mind. Some of these faded photographs I managed to find and tuck in a few envelopes before I left what I had called home. Now they flipped through my thoughts. I had heard and answered the appeal for tombstone contributions from an Italian-American community. Now, I felt a connection to this unknown someone who chose the moral grace of “doing the right thing” — Here is the story of Pietro Pete Panto. https://www.nytimes.com/2023/09/15/nyregion/pete-panto-docks-mob.html

Here was Pietro, buried unmarked, unrecognized, not far from where I now quietly live. Pete — standing, saying no to corruption, even in the face of violence, and upholding his own moral compass in favor of workers’ struggles. At another historical time, almost 100 years ago, when honesty seemed scarce, Panto remained steadfast to model workers’ collective conscience of honest travail and its rewards. How much yet how little things change! I spoke to people in attendance – open, focused, welcoming – waiting with umbrellas prepared for the threats of a downpour.

Before I left the house, I debated whether to buy flowers. A quick visual survey of the backyard revealed one perfect red rosebud, and several purple wildflowers, palm-like fronds, and plenty of greenery. I gathered the flowers and whispered a prayer for the guidance to do the right thing, and to brave the conviction to follow those whispers.

And when ready to leave, I returned to the car, shuffling through brown, decaying leaves over rows of graves. By chance, I brushed some brown leaves off one of the foot-stones and looking up, read and received the message to recognize the synchronicity and serendipity of this afternoon.