Synchronicity. Not only does it seem to exist, but I swear the Universe even lets me know when to pay attention to it. This past weekend, my critique partner held an informal “writing retreat” at her house (when hubby goes away, the writers shall play…uh, I mean write). I worked really hard during this 48-hour period, I promise, but in between plot points was an hour and a half massage by a really intelligent, literate man. As I lay splayed out on the massage table, our conversation wandered into the more supernatural realm, and soon we were discussing how he often notices 11:11 on the clock, and me, 12:12. From there, we begin to talk about synchonicities—the strange, at times humorous, “coincidences” that seem like specific, personal messages from another realm.
Hmm, I thought, I really have to pay more attention to them, because when I do, they seem to pop up everywhere.
Flash ahead three days. After a great deal of motivation and a lot of revising on my work-in-progress, I am suddenly stalled. I sit down to write. I get up to see if there is chocolate in the house. I sit down to write, managing a few good sentences. Rise to have my third latte. Sit down to write. Get up to do the dishes. The dishes? Wait, what? Okay, now I know something is wrong….but what could it be?
I soon figure it out. The problem is called, Being on Submission. Why is the process so slow, I bemoan? I feel like I wrote such a good book. I know in my heart that it should be published. But why does it have to take so long to find the right editor? If it’s meant to be, why doesn’t it happen faster? And what if, gulp, I am wrong, and it ends up in a drawer? (Insert shiver.)
Out loud I find myself saying, over the roar of the Nespresso machine, SHOW ME THE SYNCHRONICITY! Please, I say, if I’m supposed to keep writing, let me know! And then I promptly forgot all about it.
It only took a few hours. That evening at five, I took my daughter to her job as a jury member and foreperson for our juvenile court’s peer program. I love to watch the cases, and the jury come up with their restorative justice plans, but today, it’s running long, and we have to get from there to jazz dance class in twenty minutes. The judge is about to dismiss us when I hear, “We want to acknowledge a special guest in the room. Today we have XYZ who is here from Holland and works for the Anne Frank Foundation.” I won’t get into the plot of my submitted material, but let’s just say that the manuscript involves Anne Frank and the details surrounding the very place where this man works. In the few minutes I have left, I rush over to introduce myself. We chat a bit, and I scratch down my website address. And then I’m out the door, kid in tow.
I don’t think this synchronicity needs to impart some jaw-dropping piece of information or have some amazing follow-up. It did its job and raised my eyebrow. (I prefer the one eyebrow lift over two; it looks more intellectual.)
Synchronicity?
Coincidence?
I have to say, the timing puts it over the top for me. Synchronicity wins, hands down.
I have the distinct feeling that today’s going to be a good writing day.
