From my journal entry yesterday. . .

Synchronicities abound for me right now. Everything I think of ends up connecting to something, so I am trusting my feelings and going with them. For example when I went shopping today. I flowed with my feelings and entered a department store and ended up walking right up to an apple peeler/corer device I had desperately been wanting and thought only existed through mail order. It was the only one on the shelf. And there was only one other customer in the vicinity of this huge store and I heard her say she was looking for an apple corer (how strange, eh?) and was being told by the store employee that there is actually a gadget that peels and cores apples, but they are only sold on TV so she would have to settle for a little hand-held corer.

Then tonight, I walked into the kitchen where I had left the curtains to the window above the sink wide open. I gasped as I noticed a huge spider—a Huntsman—perched at the top on the outside of the glass (I still remain somewhat arachnophobic). Just then a huge moth landed on the bottom of the glass on the outside. I somehow knew the moth was going to climb the glass and go to the spider. I felt fear, too. I did not want the moth to get nabbed by the spider. But the moth began this crazy descent in a straight path toward the spider way up at the top. I started muttering, no, no, no, but it went straight to it. As the moth touched the spider's leg, its legs darted to catch it, but missed. I was relieved, though I did understand the spider has to eat, too. Meanwhile, the moth landed back on the glass and started the same direct path toward the spider again. Again the spider fumbled and missed it. The moth repeated this ridiculous path about four more times. All the while I had pressed my hands to my cheeks, watching in horror. Finally the spider captured it and began the process of consuming it.

At that moment I reflected back on the strangeness of the scene realizing most amazingly of all, that the moth, out of all the places it could have gone on the huge window, kept going straight to the spider as if it was being pulled. I knew there was something to this. Was the spider psychically drawing the moth? Something WAS controlling the moth, whether it was the spider or a process, I don't know. And why did it happen in the tiny window of time I happened to enter the kitchen when I had been in the other room for hours before and after? I feel that I was meant to see this demonstration. And I will have to ponder what it means. Another amazing aspect was realizing that I somehow knew from the second I saw the moth, several feet away from the spider, that it was going to go to the spider. It could have flown away, or crawled anywhere else, but I positively KNEW it was going to go to the spider. And maybe that is the lesson that I'm supposed to get—that we know what is going to happen (as our soul exists outside of time), but we are usually not fully conscious of this fact. We don't acknowledge it. Maybe using a spider and a moth was a way to grab my emotions and get me to pay attention.