This is not a culmination but rather a review of the evolving information I continue to collect regarding how we interact with the world around us.
My quest for answers began earnestly and humbly when I asked the rhetorical question, “Why do women choose what they choose when it comes to jewelry?” Because I was a jewelry designer and entrepreneur, the question was not just curiosity; it was about commerce and more. If I could unlock the riddle, I could design with purpose and not just a hope that the piece I was working on might strike a chord in the “would be” buyer.
I turned to a local junior college to begin my quest for the answers. I decided that, if I wanted to understand women’s choices, I needed to study everything that may be influencing them, and what better place to start than with the school part of that equation? In 1964, that was not a popular choice.
In fact, I found there was no room at the inn when I began making inquiries about enrolling in classes such as “Dress Design” and “Charm”. These classes and many others were exclusively for women, and unless I could convince the academic establishment that I was not crazy, this journey into the women’s world would be a short trip. As student Phil, after weeks of wrangling and explanation, I began my voyage as a lone male in a sea of females.
I checked off one class after another on my “what’s next?” list, and further and further across the educational sea I sailed. Two things became abundantly clear to me: One, I was developing a better understanding of women’s choices, and, two, there was more at work here than simply designing for women.
A thought occurred to me during one of the long nights of study, “What if I am uncovering more than just a pattern of preference? What if I am seeing a pattern or code that isn’t just a woman’s code, but a universal one?” What I had begun to suspect and eventually spend more than 50 years researching was that all humans share a code that had, for eons, hidden in plain sight.
A series of seemingly disconnected, incongruent shapes and colors was, in reality, more than that: They were predictive code for how humankind interacted with all aspects of daily living. What I had discovered was an inherent “Geomic Code”—the code for interacting with the world around us.
“Code” is a system of hiding the meaning of a message by replacing each word or phrase in the original message with another character or set of characters. (The list of replacements is found in a codebook.) An alternative definition of code is that it is any form of encryption that has no built-in flexibility; only one key exists; namely, the codebook.
The Geomic Code is different from most codes. To understand this difference one must understand codes in general. In Simon Singh’s The Code Book he reveals a fascinating worldview, developed over centuries, of how we as humans have used codes to communicate. For the first time in human history, the Geomic Code I discovered helps unlock the code for—not just communication—but for greater understanding of the vibrational interdependence of all things.
The study of codes, or cryptography, is the science of concealing the meaning of a message. Sometimes the term is used more generally to mean the science of anything connected with ciphers and is an alternative to the term cryptology. Whether we are talking about the color test, Arrien’s work in his Signs of Life book, The Code Book by Simon Singh or the findings in countless other works, the admonition remains constant. These are not insignificant games, and while we may find amusement, education and enlightenment within their bounds, we must respect their ability to shape opinions and beliefs beyond that of the simple test itself.