Synchronicity log for 2014


Interesting recurrence today: the theme of "being forced to save." It came about starting with this morning, when I got a life insurance circular in my mail, which reminded me to ask my dad about the whole-term insurance policy he has on me, which I've been meaning to do for weeks (months?). That was the first part, the second part came when I went to my parents' for lunch and found waiting for me a "25 Ways to Make Your Money Work Better For You" brochure-type thing that my dad has set aside for me. #1 on the list was "Trick yourself into saving," which I noted because it was such an awkward tip, encouraging you to play headgames with yourself in order to save, rather than just laying out and plan and saving. Well, shortly after that I asked my Dad about the whole-term life insurance policy and if he might want to cash out the investment portion of it in order to reinvest it and get a better interest rate (that was the whole point of me bringing it up to him). His answer to this was no, he didn't want to do that, because the policy was his way of "forcing himself to save." He didn't say "tricking" himself to save, but the underlying archetype was precisely the same as that I'd read in the money guide just minutes earlier: a way to play headgames with yourself in order to save, rather than just doing it. Rather notable since 1) I'd been reminded by the insurance mailer to ask my dad about the policy *before* I saw the "25 Ways" brochure thing, 2) because I'd been meaning to bring the life insurance investment subject up for at least weeks, then Just Happened to finally do it today, and 3) that that brochure would have Just Happened to be sent my way on this very day, so that its #1 tip of playing headgames with yourself to save could be repeated by my father's reply. Neat/


A classic book synchro today. I recently read the 'American Nomads' book which mentioned how beaver hats became a fad due to fur trapping in the American West, which in turn gave way to silk hats becoming popular. It was the first I'd ever heard of this story. Then, I read of it today, and in the most unexpected place: a novel called 'Last of the Breed.' Notable not just because I read it so close to the book in which I originally learned of this story, after going my whole life without doing so (again, the same old pattern), but also because the two books are on completely different subjects and are of different natures -- so I couldn't have just subconsciously picked two books of a similar subject matter. Additionally, there's the way I came into the 'Last of the Breed' book: my dad gave it to me, randomly, after finding it in a rental of his, around the time I was reading the 'American Nomads' book. In a way, this is more notable than if the two books had been read back-to-back.


A minor but funny general recurrence today. The day's tarot card draw was The Hermit, which depicts a man holding up a lantern. As it so happened, my pipes froze in a freak windstorm last night, and I had to go down to my basement and check them several times today, which required a light -- and the best light I have is my Brooklyn lantern, which is powered by batteries but is styled exactly like the lantern depicted in the Hermit card, with me carrying it around the same way -- I was even wearing a long blue bathrobe which bore a striking resemblance to the robe on the card (I only started wearing this in the last couple days, after remembering it in a closet), as well as a grey hooded sweatshirt with the hood up! I only picked up on this after the fact. I was only lacking a staff and a beard.

Also, there's the fact that the Hermit card described other events of the day perfectly, in the traditional fashion I've come to associate with these daily single-card tarot draws (I was very introspective and cut off today).


Really cool reading synchro today. It was just like previous ones I've had, fitting that pattern of reading something just as a separate, real-life thing correlated with it perfectly, in that distinctively synchronous way, however with a twist. This time, rather than having the real-life event and the read passage synchronize just as I was reading along normally, it happened right when I resumed reading the book after being interrupted -- twice, actually, close together and in the exact same way. The first happened when I was reading normally, got interrupted, and then picked up the book and resumed reading ('Last of the Breed'), with "He heard the roar of a starting engine" precisely when my dad started up his truck outside, in that perfectly synchronous way, and with perfect description (not just "the roar of an engine," but a *starting* engine, which was what I heard, and not just "a starting engine," but a *roaring* one, which is distinctive of my dad's truck). Also worth noting about this is that my dad originally planned to take his car, but the battery was dead; otherwise, he not only would not have started up the truck, but would have started the car's engine before I read the correlating passage.

But it didn't stop there, because then it happened again. After I'd noted this synchronicity on a piece of paper and settled down (it was rather jarring, even after so many of these, because of how perfectly it corresponded to my resuming the book after being interrupted), I finally picked up my book and found where I'd left off, the paragraph after that containing the roaring motor sentence, which started with "A door creaked open" -- and damned if a door didn't creak open right as I read that, also in that perfectly synchronous way, but also with a distinctive creak (this door in particular makes a distinctive creaking noise). After adding an addendum to the first synchronicity's note, I laughed genuinely. As unlikely as the first one was to be chance, having two back to back was just incredible.


Notable recurrence today: the Nez Perces Indian tribe. I first read of this in the 'American Nomads' book recently, for I think the first time ever. And then it was in that 'Last of the Breed' novel, improbable enough considering the subject matters of the two books and the randomness with which I read them. But then it recurred a third time, today, in the next sequential book after the novel, in a historical book about the 1914-1932 period of American history -- one with even less in common than the other two, and read as randomly (I bought this book on a whim in Goodwill over a month ago). Rather notable, for multiple reasons, I think.


Today was another one of those days of an onslaught of individually unnotable synchro. Today, it was mostly themes rather than words or events. For instance, I read in the 'Farm City' book I started today both of someone at a local, high-brow market talking to vendors about where their meat came from and what it was fed on and of someone note being "punk enough," and then today encountered both of those things, in the most random, unlikely of ways (went to Earthfare and overheard someone having the conversation about meat and where it came from/what it was fed on, when I had no plans to go there today until I got a coupon in my email and decided to take advantage of it; then, when I went to make an Amazon order I'd been putting off for weeks, I decided I needed another new CD, and after a blindly random search, I came to a Rancid CD in which the description described them as being "not punk enough"). There were maybe five or six coherent themes like this, which I can't now remember because they weren't too notable in themselves, but they came alongside a ton of lesser, incoherent ones. In any case, it fits that pattern of the individually unnotable onslaught.


Two cool recurrences today: "trustafarian" and "Lucky the cat," both originating in the 'Farm City' book. "Trustafarian" was a term I'd been introduced to in the 'American Nomads' book recently, and had written in my word ledger to look up but didn't actually look it up until a couple days ago. Notable, not only because I'd read it for the first time and then soon after (in another randomly bought book on a totally unrelated subject matter, no less), but also because of the timing of how soon I'd seen it again after finally looking it up. Then "Lucky the cat," mentioned offhand in the 'Farm City' book, was even more notable, because it just so happens that today I edited my story "Lucky," which stars Lucky the cat. It's notable on the surface, due to the obvious recurrence (is Lucky a common name for a cat?), but it's more notable when taken into consideration that the story I edited today was the latest sequential story for the short story collection I'm presently putting together, after having put together several such collections of the last couple months, with this specific one and this specific story Just Happening to fall on the very day I Just Happened to read of a Lucky the cat in a randomly bought book, etc -- very unlikely, for several reasons.


Somewhat notable recurrence today. Yesterday in the 'Farm City' book, I learned of something called Slow Food, which appears to be some kind of food-enthusiast or farmers' community, which I don't believe I've ever once heard of before. Then today I saw a bumper sticker for Slow Food on a car. Maybe it was just me noticing it because of just having read it, but, as best I could tell, it was a classic case of never having been exposed to the existence of this thing until yesterday, then being exposed to it a second time within the course of 24 hours.


Some really cool, classic synchronicities today, after a pronounced drought recently. All three were of the same basic nature, the coinciding of two things. The first was my thinking "green light," as a pulled up to a red intersection, immediately before the song I was listening to said "green light," in that perfectly synchronous way. Then, just minutes later, the same basic thing happened again, with my thinking "fan" immediately before some person near me, completely unconnected to me, said "fan" (interestingly, I'd thought "fan" because I saw something which I thought was a fan, but turned out to be part of a paper shredder -- something which, in retrospect, really looked nothing like a fan, yet I'd thought it did, and without any sort of cue or suggestion, since it was *before* the man had said "fan," or anything related to fans). Then, less than an hour later, while checking out at a grocery store, I read "thank you" on the credit card reader just as someone behind me said "thank you," again in that perfectly synchronous way. I find these interestingly individually, but more so collectively, considering I've had no significant synchronicities for over a week (and even very few insignificant ones), and then -- bam! -- three distinct, nearly identical ones within the course of an hour. Why? (I note that, for the last week or so, I've been extremely sick, depressed, and out of my head, but today I came out of it a little; it seems like times in the past I've had this same thing happen: when I get really ill, the synchronicities stop, and I don't think it's just because I stop noticing them -- and then, once I come out of it, they'll restart.)

Then, a minor recurrence: just before dinner, I finished reading 'This Side of Paradise,' in which a McAdoo (politician) was mentioned. I Noticed this, very distinctly, and then, minutes later, on some random webpage, a McAdoo was mentioned, when I don't think I've ever seen that surname used beyond the politician (and only him just within the last couple weeks). Possibly nothing, since it's not too distinct or unlikely.


A cool recurrence today, fitting the vague-thought rubric. Last night, I thought, very randomly yet very distinctly, of a "massive amount of data," specifically computer data, like that maintained by some massive, enterprise-class computer system. From what I remember, this thought had no traceable origins, just seeming to come from "nowhere." Well, today at lunch, my dad gave me an article he'd clipped out, about some entrepreneur who'd started a company; on the back of this article, however, was an add for a data-storage company, bragging about the 50 trillion bytes of particle-collidor data it successfully stored -- a "massive amount of data," as it were, of the type almost precisely like I'd thought about so vaguely but distinctly yesterday, For No Real Reason. I could see this just being a mildly unlikely coincidence, except that, again, it fits the whole vague-thought-synchro pattern I've come to know so well, in addition to the timing between the recurrences, being less than a day.

Also, a classic though/reading synchro tonight: I was reading a paragraph on a webpage, and I entered into an absent chain of thought which ended with me thinking of how I had to eat a teaspoon of special honey tonight before I go to bed -- and a split-second later, I read "and add a large dash of honey, too." Now, were I unable to trace the chain of thought which led to my thinking of honey, and trace it so distinctly, I would write this one off as a textbook case of subconscious reading ahead -- but I *can* trace the chain of thought. So, I find it notable.


Had a ton of numbers today: 37/137, 44, 1212/212, and all their variants. I've been having all these daily for months now, but today stood out, just in sheer volume, especially 37/73/etc -- another "onslaught" of random, individually unnotable recurrences. However, toward evening there was one that was reasonably coherent and notable: I wanted to know what time it was -- genuinely, because I hadn't checked in over an hour -- and when I first looked, the clock was 7:30 -- and then, a split second after, it clicked to 7:31, 137 backwards. This fit that old pattern, both in having a clock tick to or away from a repeat number just after I look, as well as it happening during an onslaught, when I've been seeing so many numbers that I'll tend to ignore them unless they are somehow distinct in terms of timing, etc -- like that. But what really set this one apart is that, upon looking at the clock, I remembered that I hadn't reset the hour-timer I'd had on, so I picked it up to clear it and turn it off -- and when I picked it up, the timer ticked down to 2:12, hitting it precisely as I looked. It and the clock came back to back, in a one-two punch that I couldn't ignore -- also fitting that pattern of a more-distinct recurrence coming when I might've otherwise ignored the recurrence, just like with the clock ticking to 7:31 a split second after I Just Happened to look.

Then, this evening, a minor recurrence: Delphi. First it was in the book I was reading, 'The Postman,' and I Noticed it, very distinctly, though this might just have been because it was the first I'd seen it mentioned in maybe years and so I had to remember exactly what it was. Then, less than two hours later, I checked my email and felt distinctly Compelled to look at an email, even though the subject line told me it was just a useless spam selling some random thing I didn't want. But I obeyed my illogical urge, and in the email it mentioned Delphi (same context, etc, as in the Greek site/town). Maybe nothing, it being common enough, but I found it notable since 1) the timing, with me seeing it for the first time in years and then again within not just the same day, but under two hours later, 2) this incident fitting that same, classic recurrence pattern, of some random but distinct theme or subject or thing recurring within a relatively close timeframe.


First, a reasonably notable recurrence today: "object lesson." I just read about this in a book recently, within the last week (I think it was 'The Beautiful and the Damned'), and, not knowing what it meant, I noted it in my ledger. Then, last night, I finally got around to catching up on my ledger definitions, one of which was "object lesson," thereby informing me on it. Then today it was in 'The Postman,' the second time ever, less than 24 hours after I looked up the definition. Still possibly a coincidence, but it does fit the book-synchro rubric perfectly.

Then, an even more minor word synchronicity: "hoedown," which I caught on the radio today while waiting at the chiropractor's (a song title), and then was in 'The Postman,' about two hours later (though in its literal context, not as a song title). Not very notable, maybe nothing.

But then, an extremely cool one. While reading 'The Postman' this evening, I tried, experimentally, to do breathing exercises while simultaneously reading, which was a success. I did this for close to an hour while reading, breathing heavily and deeply and intentionally, and at that point, still breathing like this, my mind spun off onto a chain of thoughts related to the breathing, which ended on how it seemed that this sort of breathing was transforming me and potentially making me a kind of "superman" (because the increased oxygenation is killing off my viral infection, or so I hope). Well, the first synchronicity occurred as I reached a part of the book where one of the characters, out of the blue, started breathing deeply and intentionally -- just as I was presently (for the first time while reading, as it were). I found this cute rather than a synchronicity, but then, several paragraphs on, the deep-breathing character started changing and transforming from his deep breathing -- into a superman, as it were. Not only did it correlate perfectly my chain of thoughts to this end, but that chain of thoughts (which was rather long, spanning several pages of my reading) concluded, on the "my breathing is making me a superman" thought, just seconds before the book revealed the character breathing himself into a superman, etc. Highly notable, both from the timing and the highly complex theme and correlation, all the logistics, etc.

Synchronicity: One Man's Experience book,
                paranormal, unknown, higher dimensions, mystery, Aaron
                Garrison author