Synchronicity, Lost and Found

Synchronicity cannot be manufactured. It’s either there or not. We do tend to, however, imagine it sometimes, and wish that it with those we care for, because we’d like to convince ourselves that we have that with those we care for - we are humans and we want to feel that we are wanted, cared for and we deserve the time of the day. But a lot of times, we just feel that we are hitting a wall, or that we are being played, or that we mean so little to them, yet we make excuses for those people. 

We are in a deep well and we look up and there is not even a sliver of blue sky. It is just darkness. We sink into deep depression, we wonder if we’d ever see lights again – can you breath in a deep well, and for how long will you be alive?

After a while we realize that perhaps it is not we who are out of synch, it’s they.  They are those who can not, will not, reciprocate our kindness, our openness or return our love.

When we are little, we like to do stone skipping on a lake. We may still do as adults. When we attempt that game, we wish that it could skip and create a ripple, a disturbance on the otherwise mundane, quiet lake. We are happy when we succeed but when instead the rock just sinks, is met with silence, we begin to wonder if our attempt is a failure, or if we’ve just dreamed the whole thing up.

Some people are like that. You expect that they would make a huge impact to your life, but they just sink to the bottom of the lake, soundlessly, exit left stage, and you wonder if your chance encounter has ever existed, meant anything or just an imagination.

But occasionally you find your rock actually does exactly what it is intended, it skips on the surface, causing a ripple, and it goes on and on, like a soothing melody, and you can see the rock is heading all the way to the other end of the lake, happy as a Mexican jumping bean, right into the setting sun. And you know that you’ve found it, that synchronicity, inexplicable and enchanting. So the older soul in you finally vaporizes, ascending from the well, leaving your physical body bewildered. You feel young once again so you hold your hand up high, looking at your palm through the rays, with the fascination that you’ve not experienced in decades, and you wonder if that act of skipping is just a fluke or if you can repeat that performance. So you try again, and again... And the stones skip forward like a synchronized dance team, one after another, the ripples are now forming a song, and you are singing along.

You have climbed out of the well, in body and in soul.

That synchronicity, so elusive and so rare - Lost. And. Found.