#13 A Star Fall, A Phone Call, It Joins All
I write this note to myself at work after deciding not to pick the fight I’ve been dying all week to pick. I can’t remember where I’ve heard this phrase before - I assume I read it somewhere, or heard it from a teacher. But it pops into my head and seems right.
I’ve been brooding about this thing that's bothering me, but is definitely/probably not bothering the other person when I realize that having this particular conversation again isn't really going to change the inevitable outcome. It will only keep me in the mind-trap that I’ve made.
So, I just let it go. (Cue the Angels!)
Later, on my way home from work, I start listening to a new audiobook. Within the first 20 minutes, the narrator says:
“I don’t need to be right, I’d rather be free.”
WHAT? How? Why?
Alexa, are you spying on me???
This video is so dumb, but it really made me laugh.
You know that thing where something new to you comes across your path one day, and suddenly it’s EVERYWHERE?
Like when I first heard Cardi B say “OKurrrrrr” and within 24 hours I couldn’t NOT hear it.
(At 0:53. Delicious.)
This "thing" goes by many names:
The Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon*
And, my favorite:
Synchronicity elevates the occurrence of similar events from a mere fluke to a “meaningful coincidence” - that is, multiple occurrences that have no causal relationship, but have meaningful connections. Just the concept of synchronicity has synchronously come up for me lately in reading, in the Artist’s Way, and in general conversation. But, also in so many other ways.
*** In 2018, a psychic tells me that the archangel Michael is going to cut the psychic cords tying me to my past-life trauma. A few days later, I learn that the church directly across the street from my apartment, which has been covered for all the years I’ve lived here in scaffolding that obscures its signage, is called St. Michael’s.
In 2007, while traveling from South Africa to Botswana, I spot a family of four in the crowded airport in Johannesburg. They're very preppy, dressed head to foot in matchy-matchy Lacoste outfits. I'm eavesdropping on them, hearing that although the boys have proper English prep-school accents, mom and dad sound like Kate Hepburn in The Philadelphia Story. My internal snark machine is on blast. Hours later, I make the transfer in Botswana to my connecting flight, an 8-seater that will deliver me to a remote resort near the Okavango Delta.
The only other party on the plane? The Prep Squad.
Not only do they end up being super nice (making me burn with shame for having mocked them for wearing penny loafers and canvas belts), but we discover that they also live in London just a few doors down from me on the same street.
*** In 2017, I write a goal in my notebook: "By March of 2018, I am performing my solo storytelling show in NYC."
I work on the thing in fits and starts, and I keep writing that goal in my notebook. But, as 2017 winds down, I’m panicking and nowhere near making my deadline. A Facebook post from the intrepid Asher Novek pops up announcing his solo show workshop commencing in January and ending with an initial production of the show. I make my debut on March 10, 2018.
I see these events as little high-fives from the Universe. “Hey, you’re not alone!”
Sadly, in an effort to crush my dreams of the connected universe, scientists say it really just boils down to paying attention. That so much information is coming at us every day, there’s no way we can notice all of it. Until we do notice something, and we continue to notice it. Eventually, we start unconsciously looking for it.
Simple, rational explanation.
But still. Synchronicity.
It’s wonderful when it happens.
I have a million of these - how about you? Tell me your weird and wonderful synchronicity stories in the comments below!
*Of course, some dude had to name it after HE came across info on the Baader-Meinhof terror group twice in one week.
**Apparently, Carl Jung coined this one. Carl Jung believed in ghosts, which is dope. Carl Jung was also in league with the Nazis, which sucks and I hate him.