Synchronicity, defined as “the experience of two or more events as meaningfully related, where they are unlikely to be causally related”, is becoming quite abundant in my life. My brain, the little analytical bugger (she said affectionately), attributes this to a number of reasons:
1) Being highly sensitive, I have 40+ years of experience trying to figure out what this massive amount of information coming at me from all angles MEANS. In the process, I may very well have become a significance-signalling supercomputer.
2) In the outer world, I seek to connect to other thinkerers, most notably people who are confident in sharing their inner world. (Higher up in rank than me, if one can speak of ranks.) Tactfully, I roam around in the wealth of significance they’ve amassed, more often than not neatly categorized.
3) I make room for the spark of synchronicity, by clearing the street of thoughts.
This last step needs clarification.
A while ago, I found out how to better handle the multi-layered thingamabob we call human nature, and vowed to practice each day, as it helps me stay close to the flow, which is a joyful place to be. This involves treating the brain, a handy, hugely entertaining and in many ways superior tool, with respect, without letting it run me over.
I’ve started visualizing thinking as motorized traffic on High Street, and me being a simple pedestrian at heart. Well, pedestrians have rights! So I put up roadblocks and traffic lights and roundabouts (I LOOVE roundabouts, they make my brain go all woozy on me) to slow down or even halt circulation for a while.
When the street is clear of thoughts, significance pops up, a lively pack of crooning creatures, regrouping in duos, trios, massive ensembles even. Now able to safely cross the street, I do so, to sit at their feet and listen to their song. It is a beautiful way to connect to the flow indirectly.
This is not always a conscious process – I still rely heavily on my dreams, faithful companions since Day 1. But it is liberating to have found new ways to “achieve” something so important, to rewrite the script of my inner story so to speak.
Extra rewarding is that synchronicity affects my brain. It is af if my crossing the street has left a thread of yarn the policeman picks up and winds into a ball, which he then uses to knit a long, colourful scarf. This behaviour attracts new thoughts, softer thoughts, less eager thoughts. The brain does not notice or does not care, so enthralled is it by the sheer process of creating something cozy and comfortable for a change…