Funny how synchronistic events seem to follow a ‘feast or famine’ modus operandi or at least that’s my personal experience. When nothing unusual happens, it feels like desert time for me – nothing seems to flow easily; I feel dry, uninspired, uncreative and particularly unproductive. I want something to happen – I want a sign, a symbol, some sort of encouragement to my self that reassures me in some meaningful way. I feel like a wanderer in the desert seeking an oasis from which to drink plentifully, to submerge, to ease my parched throat, body and soul, and I don’t want the oasis to be a mirage. I want that wet, sparkling, clean, refreshing water – and I want it NOW.

But, as I write, and since I use the image of the desert, I realise that its outward appearance – of flatness and sterility – is deceptive.

The desert may conjure up images of long, un-ending, arid wastelands, the horizon illimitable, its way unending. The silence may feel unbearably oppressive. Not another person, animal or plant to be seen. No comforting word or thought, no water. The stars and moon may come out at night and provide a vision of magnificence and beauty, but the vision is not of this world – it is too far away. It is not the here and now.

One feels deserted.

Is there any value in these feelings of desertion? I’d be the first to reach for distraction rather than confronting this feeling of being in a dry, arid desert. I’d be the first to find something else to do, and most likely find something to eat to fill the symbolic emptiness and be hugely dismayed and disgusted with myself afterwards.

But there are times that I sit in the emptiness and go through my own dark night of the soul. I look inward and sit in the stuck-ness. I hate being there. I feel weary and sick of my own self. I am my own worst enemy, restless and inert at the same time, wanting to jump out and be anywhere but where I am, but quite immobilised to even jump. But, the wheel excruciatingly, slowly, turns and I feel that I can breath again.

And what, you may ask, has this to do with synchronicity?

Well, I was on my way back from the shops this morning, feeling dull and unmotivated to do tasks that needed doing in the house; it was also hot. I was uncomfortably aware that I hadn’t posted for a few weeks but I could not even begin to think of what to write on synchronicity.

A song was playing on the car radio – one I recognised from way back when. I was wondering how I would dance to it. It was a bit too slow perhaps to rock ‘n roll to; I imagined that it would be nice to be in someone’s arms to swing around in gay mood. Every breath you make, every breath I take – you belong to me .. I was bitching a bit about ‘you belong to me’ … but the song ended, and the announcer said the song was Police, from their album “Synchronicity”.

That gave me a start … it was a drop of water in my desert.

‘Alone, even doing nothing, you do not waste your time. You do, almost always, in company. No encounter with yourself can be altogether sterile: something necessarily emerges, even if only the hope of someday meeting yourself again’. E.M. Cioran (1911), Rumanian-born French philosopher. ‘Strangled Thoughts’, The New Gods.

The photograph was one I took up in Madikwe Game Reserve a few months ago .. it was very very dry – we were out on an evening drive. The photo doesn’t do justice to the beauty of the night fall … or the dryness of the reserve …

34 Comments on synchronicity – 2

  1. It’s good that the song turned up at just the right time to inspire you. Next time I’m trying to think of something to blog about and I have no ideas, I might turn on the radio and see if a topic falls into my lap. 🙂

    • How lovely to come by your comment Bun from a post already over 3 years old! Thank you. For me, it was special to re-read and the comments and has somewhat lifted my spirits. So, here’s to the inspirational song in you. May the song come from no-where and every where …?

  3. Susan and Carol thank you for your kind and supportive words. I am much humbled here as I realize the universe is at work. I am also happy to report that Ray and his wife are ok. Even at their age sometimes a little space is necessary to re-connect energies, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

    Susan, your blog is synchronicity at work. Thank you so much for sharing such a large part of who you are.

    Di

    • Lovely Di, thank you so much!
      Encouraging and gratifying to see, manifestly, synchronicity at work – and I am so pleased to be writing about it –
      As you said in your first comment on this post, ‘I’ll be watching you’ – which I will take as an encouragement to attempt another blog, hopefully tomorrow evening …

  5. Yesterday my Husband needed to go into the city for a meeting, which is about an hour from where we live. I normally do not accompany him; rather I prefer to stay here at the ranch. Yesterday proved different for me, as I felt compelled to tag along.

    I dropped my husband off at his meeting place and went to get some coffee at the newly remodeled Jack-in-the Box, a few blocks away. Downtown San Diego is quite lovely, on the water and yesterday was a very beautiful day and not cold at all.

    Drinking my coffee, I sat at a table nearest the back of the restaurant and noticed an older gentlemen at a table near by. I had already been writing for a few minutes when he asked if I was working. I replied I was a writer and just jotting down some notes.

    He asked if there was a place, he could rent a boat and I explained all that was available at the harbor a few blocks away. I asked if he was visiting San Diego and he said he had been there only a few days. He was so sad and although I do not usually invite a stranger to my table in that setting, I felt I needed to. I could see and feel the pain of that moment and I asked if he would like to join me. His eyes welled with tears as he accepted, saying he was so lonely.

    In conversation, he told me that he and his wife, of 47 years, were having trouble and that he had decided to leave for a while. He had been driving for a few days and ended up in San Diego, but not knowing why. His name was Ray and he was 80 years old, although he looked much younger, was nicely dressed and well groomed.

    We talked about relationships and what each of us, as people need in our lives. He still wanted the comfort of handholding and a kiss on the cheek, while his wife thought they were too old for those affections. The conversation was very deep, but I felt no fear, knowing I was being guided by the synchronicity of what was unfolding.

    He was clearly despondent and I was led to ask if he would harm himself. He said no but that he had a gun back at the hotel he was staying at, that he had carried it all his life, now with no special meaning.

    A few hours later, my husband called to say he had finished his meeting. I told him about Ray and said I wanted to take him to the harbor so he could go out on a boat. Ray followed me, in his car, to the wharf and I showed him where to park, assuring him we would be back in ten minutes.

    My husband and I arrived and we walked for a time along the boardwalk just talking as if we had known him all along. Finally, we arrived at the storefront where Ray could buy his ticket for a two-hour harbor tour. By now, we had been with him for almost three hours. My husband’s schedule did not allow us to accompany Ray on his trip, unfortunately. However, we watched as he walked down the ramp to the landing where is would board the boat. He looked small standing there, as we were a distance away, but his smile was unmistakable as he waved good-bye.

    Previously I had given Ray our phone number and asked that he call and let us know how the harbor excursion turned out. Plus I wanted to know that he was ok.

    He called last night thanking me over and over again saying we had given him much to think of. During the conversation, he admitted he had thought of using that gun and had planned to after leaving Jack-in-the-Box. But that now he could see that was not the answer and against his religious beliefs. He thanked my husband for being so caring to a stranger and helping him to see things in a different light. His plan was to go home this morning; to the “woman” he said he could not live without. This morning his wife called to let us know he was home and safe. She also told me Ray’s gun has not had a bullet in it for over 25 years.

    I don’t know if I will ever hear from Ray again. However, I do know I was in the right place at the right time, over a cup of coffee and that was not happenstance.

    Happy Valentine’s Day to Ray and his wife, Soladad.

    • That is a most beautiful experience Di – I had goose pimples up and down as I read it wondering all the while ‘what on earth is going to happen?’ The imagery unfolded as I read your story.

      Well, it seems to me that heaven was manifest on earth, in your heart, body and soul in you and Ray meeting. You usually do not accompany your husband – but you did, on that very day. It seems as if synchronicity chose to show you its seamless soulfulness in that you were ‘prompted’ and listened – even though the odds of the outcome seem so improbable.

      From the first monumental moment of meeting Ray and extending a hand, things unfolded as they did in all naturalness and sweetness.

      Your experience is so profound Di and thank you for sharing it.

      May all yours, Ray’s, Soladad’s and your husband’s days be blessed with love, synchronicity, joy in helping others, being yourselves and knowing that you matter … and that small ripples extend forever outward. An energy exchange – which will last forever.

      Thank you! I am still smiling and goose pimples are still running up and down.

  6. Susan, may I write about an event that I experienced yesterday, it is long however, I believe profound.
    Di

  7. Susan,
    Words so wonderfully woven, each sentence carrying its meaning into the next, seamless in its flow. You are right the very word desert conjures up thoughts of loneliness and even despair and the waterless wasteland depicted. So too, thoughts turn to the oasis we so desperately long for and hope to find. In stillness great things, can the mind achieve?

    I lived in the desert and there is a silence there I have not experienced any other place on earth. However, when I was careful to listen, and empty of my own thoughts, it came alive with sights and sounds that were wondrous. Inspiration came at the oddest moments, and did quench my thirst for artistry in words.

    Synchronicity and the Police, food and thought for your post.
    If you consider the time in which the song was penned, some woman still acted as if, “possessed” by that notion… Arm candy and trophy wives, still exist. Pity the poor souls that believe they are not worthy of more. However, we all come to our existence for difference lessons, no?

    I believe we all have to experience the darkness of the well to appreciate the water it eventually brings forth.

    Thank you so much for the imagery and thought provoking post. I’ll be watching you

    • Thank you so much Dianne for your lovely comment. It brings to mind the still secrecy of silence awaiting awakening when we hear the sounds of silence. I love your imagery – ‘…the darkness of the well to experience the water it eventually brings forth’. If only we had the willingness and patience to wonder about the lessons we are faced with to understand our existence …

      Thank you again Dianne and I’ll be watching you …

  8. Darling Sue, Synchronicity seems to be following me around all the time. It kind of works for me as a confirmation that there is so much out there that is working with me and for me. A great feeling of not being alone – being connected. On Wednesday I was about to be interviewed on the radio. As I switched off my cell I noticed an sms from a friend asking me to phone him. Hadn’t heard from him in ages. During the interview the Interviewer asked me why certain of my songs had an asterisk next to them. I then explained that those particular songs were originally arranged by my friend. (the friend who had just sms’d me) I then spoke about him for a while. After I finished the interiview I found that the woman on the radio had had a torrid affair with this same guy!
    I also love that song by Sting. He is such a great being. Watched him on Dutch TV the other day talking to some students and he inspired me with his good advice. I am feeling rather lost and trying to find a real direction in my song-writing. He gave advice to the students saying – don’t worry about the end result just practice and practice and be ready.- those words helped take away a lot of stress of what direction to take. Thanks always for including me in your mails. Love and inspiration
    Andre
    I

    • Andre, that is so lovely that you commented so movingly thank you so much! I am not surprised that synchronicity follows you around as I know from the few times that we have met that you are ‘open’ – a blessing for me that we’ve had those few moments.

      As I write (are you sitting down?) I have chills of the good sort – I have your CD playing – ‘Change your World’ and you are singing ‘I can your change my world, you can change your world, we can change all together in our minds’.

      Now I have more moments listening to your beautiful, gentle and loving singing. And now I see the asterisks on the CD cover which your friend arranged and which the interviewer asked you about and you had had the sms from him just before the radio interview – and then nogal (blow me down for the non South Africans) the interviewer had had a torrid affair with him!!! Synchronicity is alive and well in your life!

      Andre how lovely that you saw Sting saying practice practice practice and be ready. Pasteur, the father of germ theory and vaccine treatment inter alia, said that ‘Chance favours the prepared mind’ which is what Sting was saying – so here’s a repeat for you Andre.

      As I write you are singing ‘isn’t it time to heed the call, isn’t it time to feel the call’ …

      Love, thanks and inspiration to you Andre.

  9. Pat, I am speechless thank you!

    I wish that ALL would read what you have posted, straight from your unconditionally loving heart. You write so beautifully about the necessity of the collision and, painful it may be, the embracing of it to get back to ourselves. You reach out in your acknowledgement of it and I am grateful, thank you.

    Thank you Patricia from the bottom of my heart for your beautiful comment. I would like at some stage to use your words from you, in some of the (other) writing that I am doing and when the time comes for what you have said, I will ask your permission.

    I love you Patricia – I love your writing and you are an inspiration to me. Your words back at you from me. You have touched my heart strings – also your words back at you from me.

    • Thank you my Dear. I sincerely hope that one day you and I can sit down to a bottle of wine and a nice meal and share our triumphs that we have gained out of our disasters and the triumphs we have gained out of our right choices. Astonishingly though, it is the triumphs from our disasters that shape us the most and promotes the most growth.

      You and I have come a long way, and we can testify to that, because we still have many miles to travel on our journey.
      Ciao,
      Pat

      • One day Patricia we will meet – here in South Africa or there in Germany! Or else where … Imagine, wine, food, talks and tears, laughter, joy … so so much!

  10. Oh my dear Sister,
    You have touched my heart strings. How often I have sat alone in the desert, and like you, there were and are times when I wanted or want to drown out the aching pain of loneliness with a chocolate bar, or a glass of wine, and sometimes have done it, only to realize that the ache was still there.

    It has taken me some years to learn how to embrace the pain, to embrace the feeling of being lost, to embrace the feeling of dissatisfaction with myself, and through it to find me. As you have quoted by quoting Cioran, “No encounter with yourself is altogether sterile, something necessarily emerges, even if it is the hope of someday meeting yourself once again.”

    This encounter with myself can only take place when I allow myself to be alone, when I allow myself to explore and discover a small part of myself. And that has very well to do with synchronicity ,because it is at those times that a song, a thought, a verse, a picture, a book will come to the fore front, and I experience renewal and the will to go on.

    It is amazing to me that when I am at odds with myself, the only person that can help me is myself. I tried being around people I know and trust, but somehow or another I would leave being more confused, downtrodden, and dissatisfied, than I was before.

    Now I know that the collision with myself cannot be avoided. This collision is necessary if I want to continue being active and not reactive. Creativity stems out of the ability to activate, to act, to enter into unexplored territory and conquer the darkness within you. To react is only the repeating of what someone else does. It is our inability to make our own decisions and to take up our own responsibility to be creators who act upon life.

    I truly love your article and I could elaborate unendlessly on synchronicity, because it is a vital element that we need in our lives to keep to motivate ourselves.

    Thank you for a well put together article, and thank you for sharing one of the ways that synchronicity takes place in your life. It is true you know. When we expose ourselves, we reach out and touch others and help them to better understand who they are. You have done that beautifully in your article synchronicity 2.

    I love you Susan. Keep up the great work, Lady. You are an inspiration to me.

    Ciao,
    Pat

  11. Hi Anita, so good of you to comment thank you so so much! ‘…”synchronicity beetles” of life’ – how lovely is that. Yes, I do think that if one says ‘yes’ to the psyche the universe offers its unfolding support – thank you for the reminder.
    That is most interesting re: Sting saying his song was actually about obsession. I will ponder on this … not sure what I’ll make of it though? Healthy or unhealthy obsession – I wonder. I guess souls can ‘belong’ to each other? Maybe I’ll track down the interview. (I am sometimes obsessed with food to my detriment.)
    Thank you again – hope all well with you and that you’re continuing to do such amazing, beautiful, expansive, creative art.

  12. Hi Susan, thank you for this blog. It is interesting how sometimes when you have decided what you want or where you wish to go, it is as though the world opens up and gives it to you, or shows you the path to find it. That is, if you wait quietly, patiently and listen closely. I think that, that is maybe the desert part, the keeping your ear to the ground to not miss those “synchronicity beetles” of life. Another interesting thing is that Sting said in an interview that he wrote this song actually about obsession… just food for thought. Thanks again for this soul food.

    • Thank you so much Stacy! And for sharing on Twitter. And for saying about my ‘work’ .. You know it means a lot to me to hear such a something.

  14. I’m just blown away, Susan (no pun intended). Here, in what often seems like the desert of my life, I meet a kindred spirit who lives halfway around the world. Not only did you put your thoughts and feelings beautifully to words, but I can so relate; I have so been there. I think the “desert” sense/feeling is a syndrome of the seeker/adventurer. I don’t like those dry periods, and am working on diverting my attentions during them, to do — something — these days recognizing and accepting I may be journeying through yet another dark night of my soul. And the song — one of my favorite songs, from a most significant time in my life, and from the album “Synchronicity.” Does synchronicity really exist? I don’t know, but “Every Breath You Take” seems to turn up at just the moment in my life when I need to hear it; and here, just when I need to hear it, you’ve written this beautiful piece. Thank you. Amazing.

    • Carol, thank you. Comments such as yours and all the others who do comment make it all so extra rewarding for me. I battle with myself to write a blog yet when I do, it’s so wonderful that it gets responses and an acknowledgement that you and others also experience this desert-darkness. And wonderfully, a shard of synchronicity when you needed to hear it! That touches me …
      I love that the image of the desert brings up for you the seeker/adventurer. Historically many have been in the desert or in the diaspora and still are – and it seems the symbol of ‘desertion’ applies today. But, if we are able to fully experience the dark night of the soul, arid and awful it may be, we may swing towards its opposite and see the creation that lies hidden – as the other Susan so aptly points out above.

  15. Dear Susan,
    I also thought about the lushness of the desert and all that hides in what looks like empty space.
    Synchronicity brings the meaning of events together and enriches our lives. And this in turn opens out world into the creative as you so poignantly illustrated.

    • Thank you so much Susan. I believe that that empty space in the desert or in the heart is an experience that is valuable as a way to re-connect with our own selves. It is easier to hide it seems that to confront.

  16. Hi Susan, I loved your post. However, one thing I learned about the California, Arizona, and Colorado deserts is that you can find water inside the cactuses, and the aloe plants make fabulous paint brushes. Plus, the white moss on the rocks mixed with the cactus water makes a form of bread dough that you can bake and eat. Even the needles from the Century plants provide your needle and thread for sewing.

    What I’m attempting to point out is that creativity is all around us. We only have to look and SEE! Somehow, we have to wipe that fog off our mirrors so we can truly look out and enjoy the beauty that surrounds us when we are not aware of it. The food and water is there – just camouflaged. 😉 The timing of the song was perfect. It was the cloth you needed. Also, I happen to LOVE that song too.

    • Thank you so much Gwynn. Sometimes we (I) do not see what is on front of our eyes or in our hearts for that matter.
      We have deserts too here in Africa … people who have been say how much they love to be there in that vast empty space as they reconnect with their essential selves. I get that sense when we drive through the Karoo … the fog gets lifted somehow …
      I love what you say about the Century needles, cacti and aloe – aloe incidentally is apparently a medicinal wonder plant.

    • Gwynn – what a lot of information about the deserts and how the plants provide – thank you

  17. Thanks so much Melody – great to have the words .. probably won’t be able to get the song out of my head now …
    I heard the last part of it on my car radio – the refrain (x 2) contains the words ‘you belong to me’ … I listened (and watched it – he’s so great looking is Sting) on my Ipad before writing my post just to be sure I wasn’t bitching unnecessarily.
    I like the ‘I’ll be watching you’ .. just not mad at all about the ‘you belong to me’ as if the person was a possession-

  18. I loved this Sue. I know the feeling. I also remember the song well. I had another look at the lyrics. It is interesting that you have heard the words “You belong to me…” where the lyrics actually are “I’ll be watching you….” I wonder what that says about something else that is going on in your unconscious in this ‘dry’ patch. Synchronicity is the fifth and final studio album by The Police, released on 1 June 1983. The band’s most popular release, it includes the hit songs “Every Breath You Take”and “Synchronicity II”. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Synchronicity_(The_Police_album)The song is called “Every Breath You Take’ and the lyrics are:

    “Every breath you take
    And every move you make
    Every bond you break, every step you take
    I’ll be watching you

    Every single day
    And every word you say
    Every game you play, every night you stay
    I’ll be watching you

    Oh, can’t you see
    You belong to me?
    How my poor heart aches
    With every step you take
    Every move you make
    Every vow you break
    Every smile you fake, every claim you stake
    I’ll be watching you

    Since you’ve gone I’ve been lost without a trace
    I dream at night, I can only see your face
    I look around, but it’s you I can’t replace
    I feel so cold, and I long for your embrace
    I keep crying baby, baby please,

    Oh, can’t you see
    You belong to me?
    How my poor heart aches
    With every step you take
    Every move you make
    Every vow you break
    Every smile you fake, every claim you stake
    I’ll be watching you
    Every move you make, every step you take
    I’ll be watching you
    I’ll be watching you”

  19. Very nice post. Also been feeling a bit stuck and inert but also kind of know it’s part of the creative process and I use the time to carry on with tasks that I’ve started and would like to complete. Usually the work I do during this bleak phase tends to be worthwhile and I’m doing the slog work that brings the initial spark of creativity I had a while ago, to completion. Anyways, great post, I got a lot of value out of it.

    • Mike, that is so nice thank you! I can’t tell you how ‘expanded’ I feel that you say that, thank you so so much!

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