Soul symbolism: If there’s no such thing as an ‘accident’, what does my bumped car mean?

“Superstition and accident manifest the will of god.” C. G Jung

“The ideal man bears the accidents of life with dignity and grace, making the best of circumstances.” Aristotle

inktuition car bumpMy car got bumped today. To be specific, the other driver thought he had more space than was actually there and, in his impatience to get through the too-tight space, his car gouged the side of mine. Or at least, that’s what it felt like as his metal got intimate with mine. It sounded as though he’d put a huge gash in the side.

He admitted liability and ran off to get his insurance documents. I stood there in wobbly shock, mind blank with what to do next in this situation, while other drivers in various states of hurry swore at me to move out of the way. Not a pleasant or uplifting experience for eight o’clock in the morning.

OK, so the physical damage was minor. But emotionally the bump has ricocheted through my day. I certainly didn’t feel I was handling this accident with grace or dignity. I’ve never had to claim on my car insurance before, and I’m loathe to start now. But more than that, I always interpret symbolically the events major and minor that happen in life, believing that Jung says about there being no such thing as an accident. If that’s the case, then what could the bump on my car mean, and what have I learned from it? Is there a deeper meaning? What’s my soul trying to communicate with me.

As I always do, I turn to my laptop for inspiration and insight. Through my keyboard I make sense of what’s happened and seek some kind of clarity and release. So, intuitively, here are the different levels of my thinking:

  1. It’s just a bump. It’s all the other person’s fault. He should learn how to drive better. (Not a very empowering way to look at this).
  2. Cars can signify goals and getting places. Is the bump a way of slowing me down and making me reassess the path I’m on? (Could be helpful to take some time to reflect and improve self-awareness and alter my road, if necessary).
  3. The bump was on the right-hand side of the car. The right represents the masculine. Which part of me is the bump targeting? Which masculine energetic part of me is the bump making me slow down to consider? I’ll have to reflect more on this one, but it’s one to stick with.
  4. What quality has manifested as a result of the bump? If I’m being honest, the whole debacle has been a lesson in patience. Perhaps the ‘accident’ will teach me to leave the house earlier and not rush down a crowded road full of other people in a rush, waiting to bump and shout at me. (Yes, patience isn’t a quality I have in abundance, so this insight has deep meaning for me).
  5. I should be more mindful of everyone around me instead of always being head down to chase deadlines. Perhaps the bump was a reminder of how precious life is and how we can’t take things for granted mindlessly. The bump brought me straight back into the present and I’ve been driving oh-so-carefully all day. The car, as a representation of my conscious self in this world, has just been brought back into sharp focus. My attention is now revved.

Points 4 and 5 have the most resonance for me. Perhaps this tiny little knock on my car was a wake-up call, bringing me back to the moment. For other meanings, I’ll let them meander into my head next time I’m on a long drive (as ideas usually do when I’m nowhere near a pen to write them down).

I can already feel that the act of letting the ideas flow through my fingertips has restored me to some kind of dignity, and the bump no longer has its insidious grip on me. Perhaps it was no accident after all.

That song that’s stuck in your head? Tune into its true message

Tune into that intrusive music in your head to hear what it's got to say. (

Tune into that intrusive music in your head to hear what it’s got to say. (

Oh, it’s SO annoying. Your head can’t switch off the replays of the most popular song on the radio you heard before dropping the kids off at school, driving to work, or running an errand. The catchy tune and chorus stick in your head ALL DAY. You think you hate the song, but the melody bounces around in your brain and chatters into your ears like your new best mate.

But apparently the tune that bangs on your eardrums all day  – the so-called ‘earworm’ – is a song you actually know and like, according to psychologists from Western Washington University. Intrusive songs are most likely to turn up their volume when we’re relaxed and doing downtime activities like walking (or maybe the washing up) as well as when we’ve got a lot to do (like homework) and our minds are prone to wander. Annoying songs can creep in then, but are less likely to invade our ears when we’re focused on tough mental jobs and our minds are fully engaged. (If you’d really like to zap an annoying song from your inner playlist, here’s an article on how to get a song out of your head).

But how about a deeper viewpoint? What if the song that’s stuck is trying to communicate something else? What if the only way for your soul to get a message through to you on a particular day is by annoying you with seemingly inane lyrics and by banging your auditory door down with a song that has a deeper meaning for you? Listen in closely to hear what that repetitive chorus might be whispering to you.

When I need inspiration or insight, I trust that the lyrics from a song – popular or otherwise – will spring into my head. It’s a form of clairaudience, where intuition can guide me in a way that’s most meaningful for me that day. The message may not always be profound, but then symbols (visual or auditory) are often clever and subtle and need you to pay attention, interpret and trust them.

So, next time you can’t get words or music out of your head, remember to take note. It could be your inner voice trying to tell you something. Don’t drown it out.


My soul’s lesson for today: what you do, you get more of (whether you want it or not)

On the train to work this morning, I wondered why the person who sat down opposite me needed to finish off eating his tube of mango ice cream (yes, at 8.30 in the morning!) with his fingers (yes, on a crowded train!) The sucking and slurping turned my stomach, and distracted me from a paper I was reading for my project.

Fast forward a couple of hours and I am sitting in a fairly quiet sandwich shop with my laptop, trying to work on said project, and a big bloke sits down beside me, chomps his tuna and cucumber wrap loudly, and licks his fingers with aplomb every time he takes a bite. I only wanted a quiet corner to work on some writing, not to be interrupted by other people’s noisy eating habits!

It’s so annoying to keep magnetising experiences in my life I’d rather do without. (pic:

Why have I attracted two annoying people with questionable manners to sit down near me and interrupt me? I can’t think of any reason why I magnetised the noisy eaters into my energy field, other than the fact that I have been delaying putting the finishing touches to my project. And these aural and visual assaults are a consequence of not having committed to my day. Distraction breeds more distraction.

I pressed the snooze button on my alarm one too many times this morning, and so I was late getting the train. I needed to read and take notes but couldn’t do that easily because I had to stand up all the way. Lateness breeds more lateness.

I had my mid-morning snack later than usual today, so I wasn’t hungry when I ordered my lunch. Today they gave me a huge portion that I couldn’t finish because I was still full from earlier. Fullness breeds more fullness.

I think the lesson my soul wants me to remember today is Continue reading