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William Blake: The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun, c. 1805
"I thank heaven that the most important things tend to happen at the least convenient times."

I yesterday introduced my primary manner of living, LivingAllegorically. In in, I asserted that making meaning comprises the bulk of my life's work, that everything I perceive when looking out any window might prove to be some unlikely mirror image of me, and that it's always my responsibility to interpret whatever I experience in ways that work for me by enhancing the quality of my experience. I omitted at least half of a complete explanation, though, not wanting to muddy up the creek more than necessary to delve into such a deeply personal topic. That other half involves meaningful coincidents' apparent role when LivingAllegorically. Obviously, nobody ever manages to plan moments when a fresh insight appears. These simply seem to simply occur without volition or advanced planning, like the revelation on the road to Damascus that Saul wrote about, which was clearly not on that morning's agenda. It occurred at an apparently inconvenient time and brought what might easily be interpreted as great good fortune to a clearly undeserving character, an authentic plot twist. I believe that LivingAllegorically begs a necessity to consequently maintain a firm belief in Synchronicity, a concept, first introduced by analytical psychologist Carl Jung, which holds that events are "meaningful coincidences" if they occur with no causal relationship yet seem to be meaningfully related. Those meaningful relations seem to describe the mechanism animating LivingAllegorically, which might not be so much a philosophy as a manner of actually living, an endlessly active leaning in sort of engagement with life.

Synchroenicheatea seems to be a more emblematic way for me to spell the word because it seems so much more phonetic and mysterious. However one spells it, it remains a mysterious force, the presence of which won't move any needle on any Galvanometer.
It appears in ten thousand guises, it's apparent primary purpose being to surprise us. It explains the baffling beneficence of what Californians call Parking Karma, the event where for some inexplicable reason, a parking spot closest to the entrance opens up the moment you arrive. Californians typically interpret Parking Karma to mean that The Gods have decided to smile down upon them, that all former trespasses have apparently been forgiven, and that their soul, however previously tattered, has been fully and seamlessly repaired. A genuine alleluia moment. I mean the heavens seem to open up to reveal a celestial choir accompanied by an angelic full symphonic orchestra. And this describes minor league Synchroenicheatea.

Finding a spouse seems to always be accompanied by a hefty smear of Synchroenicheatea. What else could explain the strange attraction and the curious connecting dance? A seemingly accidental convergence of two previously completely independent trajectories suddenly conjoined. Many jobs result from similar accidents, all clever strategizing resolving into a chance encounter and yet another strange connector. Synchroenicheatea seems a commonplace occurrence yet never loses its ability to continue to surprise us. Plans don't simply fall apart when they diverge from the projected path, but often seem to finally fall together then, if one retains the presence of mind to catch the unfolding beneficence. Many breakthrough scientific discoveries have come immediately following the primary researcher encountering a Aw Shit! Moment, where certainties crumbled to open space for some significant difference. The car trouble forcing you off the road and into a town you'd never before slowed down long enough to enter? An unanticipated angel very likely awaits your arrival.

Synchroenicheatea isn't just a series of Hail Mary passes, though. Careful planning might enhance the chances of attracting this strangely familiar force, for changing a well-planned course tends to open up unanticipatable possibilities, some of which will very likely come to surprise and delight. One might, as the Bible counseled, live as if a beast in the field, utterly dependent upon some unperceivable beneficence, on faith alone, but that tactic seems unnecessary if not utterly ridiculous. One might certainly regulate as necessary to reasonably ensure continued viability, and even choose to be completely faithless, without forfeiting the possibility that Synchroenicheatea might occasionally visit. Faith in Synchroenicheatea is not a plan nor any guarantee, but an apparent necessity in a world demanding that I continually make meaning in ways that enhance the quality of my experience. It helps if I can catch these moments of meaningful coincidence, and my belief improves that possibility.

No life seems utterly accidental, with moves completely unanticipated. We all make plans and attempt to follow them. We firmly believe in the viability of our projections, many of which do manage to come true, or at least true-ish. We usually hold clear-eyed ideas of precisely where we're going. The points in my life, though, where significant shifts have occurred, have all appeared as if a certain Synchroenicheatea got involved. That time when, frantic to finish a submission for a conference, I walked the library stacks searching for I didn't know what, and a volume containing precisely the information I most needed fell off the shelf at my feet. That time I took refuge from a networking break at a conference and found a fellow introvert who would become my lifelong friend hiding behind a stack of tables and chairs. The time I decided to submit to a practice job interview with the one company I would never aspire to ever work for and then stayed for fifteen years. My life, like yours, has been generously sprinkled with such deeply meaningful coincidences, and so I consider acknowledging the presence of Synchroenicheatea continually stalking me an absolute necessity to LivingAllegorically. I thank heaven that the most important things tend to happen at the least convenient times.

©2020 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

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