Today’s word was “ghostly.” This morning I was sitting in the living room drinking my coffee. I looked up and saw this strange shape, a perfect ghostly mushroom on the living room ceiling. It was a sign, though of what I’m not at all certain.
One day in 1996, I was walking through the woods. I looked up and, way, way up there, in a patch of sunlight on a branch, I saw a pileated woodpecker, an enormous bird with a bright red head. Everything was dark except where the sun shone on the bird. At the time, I didn’t know its name, nor did I know what portent I had been given. However, I did know with utmost certainty, that the bird was a sign, a vision, a message from somewhere. The very next day I found that I was pregnant, quite unexpectedly so after several years of barrenness had removed all hopes of ever having a child. As soon as I learned of the pregnancy, I understood that the bird had been the messenger. I was not at all surprised when the child was born with red hair.
I’m quite a rational person. I think I am quite rational anyway. I understand that unlikely events are not the same as impossible events. I understand the probabilities of coincidence. I understand the high probability of coincidences. Nevertheless, despite all this rationality, I don’t actually believe in coincidence. I believe that everything is connected. I believe that everything has meaning. I am not sure yet what the magic mushroom might mean, but I am sure all will be revealed in the fullness of time.
