The Magic of Synchronicity
For me, synchronicity began with a single feather.
Not just any feather — a magpie feather. Iridescent and dark, edged with a shimmer of blue that seemed to hum with meaning. It felt placed, not fallen. Not a random piece of nature, but a message from it. A whisper from something beyond the veil.
At the time, I was unravelling quietly. My mother was beginning her final descent, and I was walking beside her, not yet knowing how deeply the journey would change me. Grief was hovering at the edges of my life, but so was something else: a strange sense that I was being guided by something.
I didn’t know then that this was the language of synchronicity.
The feather came to me when I needed to believe there was more. I picked it up with reverence but no clarity. Then another appeared. Then another. It became a pattern too precise to ignore. That’s when I spoke with a shamanic guide, who told me something that gave me chills: “Wait for the tail feather. That will be the sign.”
The very next day, I found it.
That was the moment the veil began to part — not just between life and death, but between logic and mystery, doubt and knowing. The tail feather arrived like a key. I was being called — not to do, but to remember.
Synchronicity is how the soul speaks.
It’s the language of the in-between. The signs that echo in the exact moment you ask the question. The dream that answers what your mouth didn’t say aloud. The feather that lands precisely when you're losing your grip — and somehow reminds you: you’re not lost. You’re being led.
As my mother’s life slowly loosened, the feathers became breadcrumbs on a winding, invisible trail. They showed up before rituals, after dreams, in places too poignant to be coincidence. It was as though the universe had stepped closer, saying: This is real. Keep going. Keep listening.
And I did.
That feather — those feathers — weren’t decorations of the earth. They were medicine. They turned grief into a doorway. They invited me to stop trying to survive it and instead let it initiate me.
They showed me that magic isn’t found in the mountaintop moment. It’s in the stillness, the symbol, the breath between things. It's in the way something sacred keeps calling you, if only we quiet the mind long enough to hear.
This is where SoulFuelled Medicine Music began. Not as a business. Not as a brand. But as a deep inner remembering. A transmission that started with a feather.🪶
And then came the dream.
Last July, not long after the feathers began to appear, I dreamt I was dancing—light, free, fully alive. Then a song began to play. I stopped. I knew it instantly: it was My Song—one I had created. First came joy. Recognition. Then sorrow. Because somehow, I knew: when the song ended, so would the dance.
I woke with an ache I couldn’t shake.
I’d forgotten the dream—until this week, while leafing through my dream journal as I wrote a new chapter of my spiritual memoir. Each chapter begins with a dream, then traces how it unfolded in waking life.
Months had passed. But as I reread the dream, its meaning hit me.
In the final days of my mum’s life, I created a song for her—raw, instinctive. I played it for her two days before she died. It was the last song she ever heard.
I’d called it My Song—the same name as my first medicine dance set I released online.
Somehow, the dream already knew. It knew that when that song played, something sacred would end. And it did. That gives me goosebumps. How do dreams know what’s coming? I still don’t fully understand. But again and again, I’ve watched them mirror, foreshadow, and echo waking life.
This is the heart of my book: a raw, intimate spiritual memoir—a shamanic initiation I never asked for—told through real dreams, signs, and synchronicities that whisper to us… if we dare to listen. If this speaks to you, sign up for updates as the writing and accompanying music unfolds.
The Music Medicine Dance Set I made
So what Is Synchronicity, Really?
Synchronicity isn’t just coincidence wrapped in poetic language. It’s the universe slipping into your timeline with a nudge, a whisper, a message hidden inside the ordinary. It’s the profound, dressed in everyday clothes.
Carl Jung called it “a meaningful coincidence.” But anyone who’s felt it knows: it’s more than meaning. It’s a pulse. A shift in the air. A moment when something inside you stills and says, this matters—even if you don’t yet know why.
Synchronicity doesn’t come through logic.
It arrives through symbol and dreams.
Through feeling and sensation.
It’s the stranger who echoes a phrase your loved one once said.
The number that won’t stop showing up.
The song that plays just as you’re ready to give up.
Synchronicity is the Whisper Beneath the Noise
The magpie feather wasn’t just a sign—it was a turning point. The dream was like a crack in the veil. A reminder that life is always in conversation with us, if we slow down enough to hear it. But synchronicity doesn’t only speak through waking life.
Synchronicity flows through dreams too.
Dreams are soul-speak. They carry the same symbolic thread, weaving messages in metaphor and image—like a secret language only the heart understands. Often, the symbols that appear at night echo in the day: the same animal that visits your dream shows up in your path; the same words spoken in sleep are later heard in waking life.
This is not coincidence. A deeper intelligence is always at work—one that speaks in riddles, rhythm, and resonance. It’s in the hawk flying overhead and the whisper in a dream. The déjà vu you can’t explain. The way the same theme appears again and again until you finally pay attention.
Synchronicity and dreams are two voices of the same source. Together, they show us how deeply everything is connected—across time, space, and states of consciousness. In a world that praises certainty, synchronicity asks us to surrender. In a world that rewards doing, dreams invite us to listen.
If you’re in the space between stories—if the old life no longer fits but the new one hasn’t yet arrived—this is your reminder: you’re not lost. You’re in the in-between. And in the in-between, is where the soul speaks loudest.
But to truly hear the whispers—of dreams, of signs, of the soul—we need to step outside the static of everyday life. The scroll, the rush, the roles we play. All of it numbs the signal as we’re not always present enough to notice the signs.
And sometimes, what blocks the signal most… is what we’ve buried. The unspoken grief. The silenced rage. The old stories we’ve outgrown. Shadow work isn’t about fixing yourself—it’s about facing yourself. Feeling what’s been hidden. Letting it move through, so it no longer holds the wheel. Take a look at the shadow work question waiting for you at the end of the article, dig in, see what you can bring into the light.
This is where SoulFuelled Medicine Music comes in.
This isn’t just a dance. It’s a return to you, the you behind all the masks and expectations. A sacred online medicine space to shed the daily grind, bring your whole self, your shadows, your light - all of you is welcome and applauded in this space. Here you get to drop into your body, and deeply feel again. Because when the mind softens, spirit, signs, synchronicity speaks - your whole being becomes an antenna for the unseen.
You don’t need choreography. You don’t need to be “good” at dancing. You just need to show up—barefoot, open, willing. And you don’t even need to leave your home. You could light a candle. Close your eyes. Lay back and let the music guide you inward on a deep musical journey.
This is sacred time—for you.
Because once the outside noise falls away. The present moment opens up. And in that stillness, the magic begins.
SoulFuelled Dance Portal - Monthly Medicine Dances
Shadow Work Journal Prompts: Synchronicity
Let these questions take you to the liminal places within. For more prompts and shadow work click here.:
When have I received a sign or symbol during a time of change? How did I respond?
Where in my life have I ignored the whispers because I feared what they might ask of me?
Where in my life am I craving a sign—but afraid to receive it?
What synchronicities have I dismissed as coincidence—and why?
If I fully trusted the signs, what would I have to let go of?
What part of me still longs to believe in magic, but feels it’s not safe to?
What is my relationship with control, and how does it block the quiet nudges of the universe?
What synchronicities have been repeating in my life lately? What might they be trying to show me?
What part of me still believes that things need to "make sense" to be real?