Regarding Synchronicities

For much of my adult life I’ve marveled after synchronicities, those mysterious moments when something presents itself to me with timing seemingly too perfect to be considered mere coincidence. People experience these events in various forms: a strange alignment of numbers on their clock, a phrase uttered by a passing stranger, or even phone call from a friend they were just thinking about. I’ve experienced all of these so-called synchronicities and many, many more, and even though they’ve never presented themselves in a way that would provide clear intent, they’ve filled me with a sense of wonder.

For many years I looked to find meaning in synchronicities, convinced that these events, ones which bubbled to the surface despite all probability, had a direct message they wanted to deliver to me. I thought that if I looked at a synchronicity in just the right way I could elicit a purpose - some direction the numeric alignment was willing me to go - a path the song was beckoning me to follow. Years passed and with each one gone I learned a little more about life, the effect of which, ironically, was that with each passing year I became a little less certain of many things I thought I knew the year before: synchronicities fell into this category.

After a time I began to thumb my nose at synchronicities, toying with the notion that they were little more than pranks acted out on a universal stage, each one a tiny puppet, its invisible strings affixed to the paws of some mischievous force closely resembling The Coyote from Hopi mythology. Having given up on the notion that these events were pointing me in a specific direction, I began to wonder if their central goal was to act as a universal “gotcha,” teaching me the lesson that it’s foolish to think that the mystery can be penetrated or its intentions understood, assuming it has intent.

Years continued to pass and in the autumn of 2009 things were looking quite good as far as my life was concerned. Things felt “right” and I was happy at work, happy at home, and generally speaking “on top of the world.” Then, on no Sunday in particular I began to feel a growing foreboding in my spirit. I didn’t understand its roots, especially considering the ease with which life had been proceeding for me, but its message seemed clear enough: “board up the windows, a storm is approaching.” It was inexplicable, but in direct contrast to all the great stuff that had been happening in my life I was getting a vibe in my soul which told me to “hide out,” as if I were a woodland animal sensing dangers approach at some intuitive level that logic could not comprehend.

On the following day the synchronicities began, and they continued throughout the week. For the most part they were silly, pointless, and purposeless, but they were there all the same, filling that undeniable space that synchronicities inhabit so well. In the next three days I experienced four to five synchronous events, each one devoid of obvious meaning or purpose; all the while the foreboding within me continued to grow. Then came Thursday, a day I’ve since referred to as the “universal trash day.” For whatever reason, life decided to “pump the bilge” in the span of just a few hours. It was as if every open door within the classroom of my life had unified in a conspiracy to push their books off of their desks at the exact same moment, or in this case, slam shut in a painfully orchestrated symphony of disappointment. In a single day I’d been transported from the top of the world to the gutter – I’m not complaining mind you - that’s life, right?

It seemed to me that more important than the pain or disappointment of this happening were the lessons I learned from the strange lead-up. Firstly, I became aware that I possessed some spiritual intuition capable of acting as a type of early warning system for life events, or at least this seemed to be the case. Secondly, and more interestingly, I started to think about synchronicities in a different way, considering the possibility that these events weren’t trying to direct me to a spiritually significant place but, instead, were indicators that I was already in a spiritually significant place. I looked back on my life and noticed that it always seemed to be within times of trial or crisis (i.e. growth) that synchronicities were most prevalent. It occurred to me that it may be no more unusual to find synchronicities gathered around a spiritually significant event than it is to find immune cells gathered around a pathogen. The analogy is not meant to suggest that synchronicities play any role in helping or healing, only that moments of “shift” in one’s life seem to be their domain.

If it is case that synchronicities do manifest in times of growth, all sorts of interesting questions begin to emerge. I’m reminded of the black cat from The Matrix who repeats itself in a classic déjà vu moment: a telltale sign that someone or something has made a change in the matrix. The déjà vu betrays the change and acts as a harbinger for those within the matrix. It is interesting to consider synchronicities in much the same way: moments of transparency in which the universe inadvertently “shows its hand”, if only briefly. Could it be the case that in life’s pivotal moments there is someone or something who is, indeed, pulling the strings by manipulating the natural state of things, and thereby directing our shift to the next lesson, synchronicities spilling forth, the unfortunate consequence of mucking with things?

I suppose I’ll never know the full truth of synchronicities, they exist within a fog of mystery, which is one of the reasons they’re so cool. But the next time they begin to gather in my life I’m going to remind myself to be a little more aware-a little more attentive. I’ll remember the black cat and the lessons of my own walk and, while still reveling in the beauty and mystery of synchronicities, I’ll watch my footsteps closely, making sure to tread forward more lightly, all the while keeping one eye open for the other shoe that may be getting ready to drop at any moment.