Perhaps Vipassana taught my nervous system to become more present. Perhaps synchronicities taught me to notice what presence reveals!
For readers who may not be familiar with Bashar, Bashar is the name given to an entity that Darryl Anka has channelled since the early 1980s. According to Anka's account, Bashar presents himself as an extraterrestrial being from the future, and through these channelled sessions he discusses consciousness, personal transformation, belief systems, synchronicity, spirituality and the nature of reality.
What I find particularly interesting is that Darryl Anka himself acknowledges that people do not have to believe that Bashar is literally an extraterrestrial being. He has said that he cannot prove Bashar's existence and that, whether people understand the source as an external entity or as another aspect of his own consciousness, what matters to him is the value people find in the information.
That openness appeals to me.
I am not writing this as a declaration that Bashar's metaphysical explanations are scientifically established facts. I am sharing them because one particular explanation of synchronicity that appeared in my YouTube recommendations today resonated so deeply with what I had been experiencing that I found myself wondering whether I had finally encountered a framework for something I had been observing in my own life.
And what made this encounter even more meaningful was that Bashar's explanation came back to something I had already been practising for years — learning to live in the Now through Vipassana.
There are questions that we ask intellectually.
And then there are questions that life keeps bringing back to us until we are finally ready to understand them.
For some time now, I have been fascinated by synchronicities.
Why do seemingly unrelated events sometimes converge at precisely the moment they become meaningful?
Why does a number suddenly appear when we are thinking about something?
Why does a song, a sentence, a video or a movie sometimes seem to arrive at exactly the right moment?
Why does something from our past suddenly reappear when we are standing at a completely different point in our lives?
And perhaps most importantly:
Are these merely coincidences — or are they somehow connected to the way we experience the present moment?
I have been thinking about these questions for quite some time.
And recently, I came across a perspective from Bashar that gave me an entirely new way of looking at them.
But before I share that, I need to go back to something that changed my relationship with the present itself.
Vipassana helped me Learn to Experience the Now
Like most of us, I understood the words:
Be present.
Live in the Now.
Don't dwell in the past.
Don't worry excessively about the future.
Beautiful ideas.
But understanding an idea intellectually and experiencing it directly are two very different things.
Vipassana changed something for me.
Through the practice of observing sensations, thoughts and experiences without immediately reacting to them, I began to understand that the present moment is not merely a philosophical concept.
It is something that can actually be experienced.
The past exists as memory.
The future exists as anticipation, imagination or possibility.
But the only place where experience itself is actually happening is:
Now.
And the more I practised observing rather than immediately reacting, the more I began noticing something subtle.
Life was continuously happening in the present.
And perhaps I had spent too much of my life either replaying what had already happened or trying to anticipate what might happen next.
Vipassana did not make life free of difficult experiences.
Rather, it taught me to observe them differently.
A thought could arise.
A sensation could arise.
Fear could arise.
Joy could arise.
Pain could arise.
And instead of immediately becoming that thought or that emotion, I could sometimes simply observe it arising and passing.
That was a profound shift.
From Living in the Now to Noticing What Happens in the Now
And perhaps something else began happening as I became more attentive to the present.
I started noticing things I might previously have dismissed.
A number.
A conversation.
A song.
A sentence.
A video appearing unexpectedly.
A movie recommendation.
A memory resurfacing.
An apparently random event that somehow connected with something I had been thinking about.
One such moment could easily be coincidence.
Two could still be coincidence.
Three could still be coincidence.
But occasionally, a sequence becomes so personally meaningful that we stop and ask:
“Why did I notice this?”
And that question became increasingly interesting to me.
Not:
“Can I prove that this was supernatural?”
But:
“What is this experience showing me?”
The 180
Only recently, on 07.09.2026, I was numbering pages of one of my legal submissions at a Xerox shop.
I was writing 180 and began encircling the number.
At exactly that moment, I heard someone nearby asking the Xerox shop worker how much he needed to pay.
The amount?
180.
The exact number.
At the exact moment.
Was it coincidence? Quite possibly. I cannot know.
But in that moment, I smiled.
It felt like one of those tiny breadcrumbs that made me feel:
“Keep it up! Keep going.”
It did not prove anything.
But it changed something inside me.
And that, perhaps, is what made it meaningful.
Over the years, I have experienced and documented many such moments of synchronicity in my blogs. I have explored this theme from different angles — Divine timing, unexpected messages, repeating numbers, and those strange moments when seemingly unrelated events appear to connect.
A few of those writings are here:
https://drracchanadfadia.blogspot.com/2026/09/when-life-starts-connecting-dots-my.html
https://drracchanadfadia.blogspot.com/2024/09/a-day-of-divine-synchronicities-ganu.html
And many more.....
But this time, something was different.
I was not simply experiencing another synchronicity. I had stumbled upon a possible explanation for why I was noticing them.
And Then I Found Bashar's Explanation
His answer was that growth is not necessarily a straight upward line.
He described growth as a process of inclusion rather than exclusion.
According to the framework he presented, when we move into a higher state, we may become capable of revisiting lower states — not because we have failed, but because there are experiences, beliefs, definitions and unresolved aspects of ourselves that still need to be examined, processed and integrated.
His metaphor was striking.
The journey is not:
high → low → high → low
at exactly the same level forever.
Instead, the peaks can progressively rise while the troughs become progressively less deep.
So the overall average keeps moving upward.
That immediately resonated with me.
Because perhaps spiritual growth is not about never having another difficult day.
Perhaps it is about meeting the difficult day from a different level of awareness.
Looking back at my own journey, I can recognise this pattern so clearly.
I have always prayed to keep rising to higher and higher vibrations, and now I can see that the process has definitely not been linear.
There have been ups and downs.
But with every cycle, the lows seemed to become shallower, while the highs became higher.
And that is exactly what Bashar was describing.
When I heard his explanation, something immediately clicked within me.
It made so much sense — because I have actually lived it.
The difficult phases did not disappear. But they gradually stopped taking me as deep as they once did.
https://drracchanadfadia.blogspot.com/2024/07/life-is-learning-and-mine-is-divinely.html
And the moments of clarity, faith, joy, awareness and connection seemed to reach places within me that I had never experienced before.
Perhaps this is what spiritual growth really looks like — not a straight line upward, but an ever-rising landscape of experience.
And suddenly, Bashar's words were no longer just a concept I was listening to. They gave language to a pattern I had been experiencing for years.
I have repeatedly re-evaluated my beliefs, emotions, thought processes and responses to life. Experiences that once overwhelmed me have, over time, become opportunities to pause, observe, question, understand and choose differently.
And something else has become increasingly evident to me.
Whenever I have felt that I was losing my centre, somehow help has appeared.
Sometimes through a person.
Sometimes through a book, a video, a prayer, a teaching or an unexpected insight.
Sometimes through an experience that forced me to look within.
And sometimes through what I can only describe as a Divine response to my prayers.
It has often felt as though the Universe gently brings me back to my centre whenever I begin to stray too far from it.
I have written about this pattern in several of my earlier blogs — how the difficult or “low-vibration” phases of my life did not disappear altogether, but gradually became shallower with the passage of time and with increasing awareness.
https://drracchanadfadia.blogspot.com/2026/06/when-universe-sends-teacher-in-divine.html
https://drracchanadfadia.blogspot.com/2025/12/when-doubts-creep-in-divine-guidance.html
https://drracchanadfadia.blogspot.com/2025/04/divine-intervention-sending-soul-ution.html
https://drracchanadfadia.blogspot.com/2024/09/a-divine-guided-journey-of-healing-and.html
and many more!
The storms still came.
But somehow, I was no longer drowning in them in quite the same way.
The troughs became less deep.
The recovery became quicker.
The lessons became clearer.
And perhaps that is what Bashar's metaphor helped me recognise: growth may not mean eliminating the valleys. It may mean raising the entire landscape from which we experience them.
Perhaps this is what I have been experiencing all along.
And Then Bashar Spoke About Synchronicities!
But the part that really stopped me was what he said toward the end about synchronicity.
He connected synchronicity with increasingly living in the Now and becoming more authentically oneself.
In his framework, synchronicity is one way physical reality can appear to mirror the interconnectedness of things that exist together in the present.
And suddenly, something clicked for me.
Vipassana had taught me to experience the Now.
My recent experiences had taught me to notice what appeared within the Now.
And Bashar's words gave me a framework through which I could contemplate why those seemingly unrelated things might sometimes appear connected.
It felt almost as though a question I had been carrying for some time had finally encountered an answer.
Not necessarily the answer.
But an answer that resonated with my experience.
Perhaps the Universe Was Not Giving Me Instructions
This distinction matters to me.
I don't want to interpret every number as a command.
I don't want every video to become a prophecy.
I don't want every coincidence to become proof of something supernatural.
And I certainly don't want to stop using discernment.
Perhaps synchronicities are not instructions saying:
“Do this.”
Perhaps they are invitations saying:
“Look.”
“Notice.”
“Explore.”
“Something here is meaningful to you.”
And perhaps that is why living in the Now matters.
If my mind is constantly trapped in yesterday or racing toward tomorrow, I may completely miss what is happening right now.
The Breadcrumbs Become Visible When We Are Present
Perhaps this is why I have begun thinking of synchronicities as breadcrumbs.
They don't necessarily tell me where the entire road ends.
They simply illuminate the next few steps.
A number appears.
I notice.
A movie appears.
I watch.
A sentence resonates.
I reflect.
A subject unexpectedly connects with something I am studying.
I investigate.
A forgotten memory resurfaces.
I write.
And gradually, one experience leads to another.
Perhaps the real gift is not that the Universe is handing me a completed map.
Perhaps the gift is that I am becoming sufficiently present to notice the breadcrumbs.
What Vipassana Taught Me — And What Synchronicity Is Teaching Me
Vipassana taught me:
Observe.
Synchronicity is teaching me:
Notice.
Vipassana taught me not to react automatically to every thought and sensation.
Synchronicity is teaching me not to dismiss every personally meaningful coincidence automatically either.
Vipassana brought me into the Now.
Synchronicity seems to make the Now more interesting.
And perhaps these two are not separate at all.
Perhaps the more present we become, the more clearly we notice the extraordinary amount of information that ordinary life is constantly presenting to us.
To follow the breadcrumb.
And then allow the next step to reveal it
Step by step.
Perhaps This Is What Living in the Now Really Means
Maybe living in the Now isn't simply about forgetting the past or refusing to think about the future.
Maybe it means becoming sufficiently present that life itself becomes visible again.
The small coincidences.
The unexpected connections.
The ideas.
The people.
The words.
The lessons.
The questions.
The opportunities.
The moments that make us stop and say:
“Wait… why did this appear right now?”
Maybe we don't always need an immediate answer.
Maybe sometimes the question itself is the gift.
And perhaps synchronicity is not necessarily the Universe shouting instructions at us.
Perhaps it is the Universe gently showing us connections — and allowing us to decide what they mean.
That is where I find myself today.
After years of seeking answers, I am perhaps learning something different:
I don't need to know the entire path before I take the next step.
I only need to be present enough to see it.
And perhaps...
that is what the Now was trying to teach me all along.
Observe.
Be present.
Notice.
Follow the breadcrumbs.
And let the Universe reveal the way forward — one step at a time.
Forever a Humble Seeker of Truth & the Divine
Forever in Service of the Divine
เซ ✝ ☪ ๐ ๐ฏ ☮ ☸ ๐ ⛪ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ฆ
Meraki Pegasus
Dr Racchana D Fadia
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