I’ve noticed that during my life, when I go seeking for information, the answers tend to find me and practically fall into my lap.
On one level, it’s amazingly cool, on another, it’s incredibly disturbing.
It’s not as though I even go looking for the answers. I just set the intention, often in passing, and I will get it. Sometimes it could take weeks, other times it could be the next day.
For example, back in 1981, I would leave the house to walk to the tram for school, and more often than not, I’d see a girl who lived at the end of my street leave at the same time and head in the same route I was taking.
There wasn’t anything particularly compelling about her, but I would often wonder who she was and how I might obtain that information.
I wasn’t a stalker, mind you. I was far too insecure for that type of thing back then! I was sixteen and paranoid, but had just started on this current path, so I had yet to come into my own power. (Which is not to say I ever was a stalker!)
I never said anything to anyone. Never even spoke to the girl, and for weeks I would end up walking fifty meters behind her.
Then one day, I got a knock at the front door, and it was a lady who was collecting for a charity.
As it happened, she was a teacher called Nancy from my previous school, and while I was never her student, she did recognize me. Then she said: You live down the road from Pinna and gave me the girl’s full name and where she lived and I found she was a year younger than me.
You could have knocked me down with a feather.
Now, you might be thinking, oh, okay, if she was a teacher, she’d know who was who around the neighbourhood, right, so nothing all that mysterious about it.
Well, yes, that is so; however it was the timing of it all. It was the only time I ever saw Nancy and she was quite qualified to answer my unspoken question. Also, as I said, it happened very soon after I wanted to know who the girl was.
Also, importantly, that type of incident never occurred again.
As it was, it wasn’t the only time her name came up. After that, people would call her out by name just as I was passing her by, and her name was also brought up by a then friend’s sister (who I was very attracted to at the time, but it never went anywhere) who happened to be a friend of hers.
All without me ever bringing up the subject.
Now, you might ask what the point of me finding out Pinna’s name was, and really, there was none. We never spoke, and the closest we ever got to meeting was when I passed her and my friend’s sister, who said: Hi Gazza. (Gaz or Gazza is a nick name for Gary.)
I have found that if I want to find out information, it would seem events around me almost conspire to give me what I want.
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