Synchronicity log for 2014


First, a really cool recurrence, one which is in a category of its own. It started last week, when I read, in 'The Roots of Coincidence,' about Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, in which there is a direct relationship between observer and observed, the two changing one another and the like. Upon reading this, I had the distinct and clear thought, for the first time, of how the Uncertainty Principle relates perfectly and directly to mental perception, since no two people ever perceive the same thing in the same way, so that they are really observing two different things, in some small way. It was a miniature revelation for me, wedding an obscure physics concept to real-life experience, and so, naturally, I remembered it very vividly. As it were, the first part of the synchronicity was that in the very next book I read, 'The Petting Zoo,' it mentioned Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle. This is itself was notable, since 'The Roots of Coincidence' and 'The Petting Zoo' are such drastically different books (one a forty-year-old non-fiction about synchronicity, the other a 2010 novel about an artist living in NYC), and, secondly, that I bought and read them entirely randomly, complexly so (the 'Roots' book had been on my list to get for over a year, and I'd just last week ordered it finally, and the 'Petting Zoo' book was a purely random purchase from Goodwill about a month ago, when I'd never heard of it or its author and got it on a vague whim). So it's notable in the first place, but the real notability is the fact that, not only did the Uncertainty Principle recur in 'The Petting Zoo,' but my insight into the parallels between it and perception did also, in the exact same context and the exact same terms. In the book, the Uncertainty Principle comes up in the dialogue between two characters, and one mentions, offhand, that that seems to be awfully like perception, where observer and observed affect one another, etc -- the exact same observation I'd made. Really cool, and way notable, considering this additional, extremely specific quality to the recurrence.

Also today, a minor vague-thought synchro that might be nothing. While cutting grass, I had the vague, absent thought of how my mom is out driving Tim around today, it being the first of the month. Then, about 45 minutes later, I was driving down the road and I saw none other than my mom and Tim. It was reasonably unlikely I would've seen them in any case, and due to the short time between my thought and the recurrence, I find it additionally notable. But also there is the fact that, where I passed them at, they shouldn't have even been, since Tim goes only a select few places on his first-of-the-month errands, and they were going opposite that direction.


Pretty cool one today. While my dad was working on a sink in my bathroom, his phone rang, so I answered it for him to save him the trouble of standing from under the sink, etc. When I said hello, the person on the other end sounded surprised -- because, as it were, they were trying to reach me. Unable to contact me directly, the person was planning on sending a message to me through my dad; but, of course, he didn't have to because I'd picked up the phone. It was the first time I've answered my dad's phone in ... at least a year, if not two or three? I think I've only answered my dad's phone a couple times ever. Pretty notable, I think, given the chances and the circumstances.

And to top that one off, while I was talking on the phone with this person and receiving their message for me, a synchronicity resulted from that. The phone was set on my bookcase beside some books (on speakerphone) and while I was talking my eyes slid down to a book titled 'The Case of the Midwife Toad,' specifically on the word "midwife," which, due to being partially covered by another book, read "wife." Right as I realized this and registered the truncated "wife," the guy on the phone said I should get a wife, this recurring in that perfectly synchronistic way. It bears mentioning that the suggestion that I get a wife came wholly random; the person on the phone, being mentally ill, often says random things in the middle of conversation, and this was one of them (his message for me involved his getting a new computer, with the wife message spliced in the middle of it, right when I Just Happened to read the "wife" of "midwife" ...).


Really cool one today -- not really a recurrence, more a classic, literal synchronicity. Blog post:

"7/3/14 - A Lesson in Expectation (Disguised as a Lesson in Intuition)
Today, I received a lesson in expectation, wrapped in a lesson in intuition. Before I go into it, however, I must first relate a previous experience.

A couple years ago, I was initiated into the subtle-but-powerful force known as intuition, and how it could serve me in a practical sense. I was parallel parked alongside a narrow downtown road, and after checking my mirrors, I went to open my door to get out. However, I stopped before doing so, frozen by a distinct urge to keep the door closed. There was nothing logical to this feeling -- I had, after all, checked my mirrors and judged it safe to exit the vehicle -- yet it was oddly coherent, as well as firm in its demand that I keep my door shut. So I obeyed, without question, feeling as if I'd been shouted at.

A split second later, while I remained stunned in my driver's seat, a bicyclist blew past on my left, going as fast as a car (I was parked at the bottom of an incline). As it were, the man had been in my mirrors' blind spot, forced alongside the parked cars due to the narrow road. For this same reason, I found my odd, illogical urge all the more notable, since the same blind spot would've kept me from seeing the potential danger even subconsciously. Had I opened the car door when I'd originally gone for it, the man would've face-planted it, without a chance to swerve, such was the timing.

Ever since that day, I've learned to suspend my normal, rationalist thinking whenever an intuitive urge comes knocking. However, as I've already said, today's experience was a lesson in expectation, not intuition.

That said, it all started with an intuition.

My miraculous non-accident with the bicyclist would be the first time I consciously realized the mysterious urges I've labeled intuition -- or, alternately, a "Compelling," as I've come to call them. As it were, I would encounter these Compellings again and again in the time thereafter, as to reliably recognize them and, eventually, obey them unquestioningly. Say what you will about my decision to trust these feelings, but this post isn't a review of the evidence for and against the phenomenon. Instead, I'll just say that, after my brush with the bicyclist (and several equally consequential sequels, including a recent one which spared me a head-on collision), I listen when a Compelling announces itself in my thoughts.

Such was the case earlier this week, when I ordered a first aid kit online.

It was late. I was tired. I was seconds from shutting down my PC -- when I saw an ad for a first aid kit. At once, my fatigue lifted and I took notice: I had to get one of these kits. The idea was entirely illogical, and entirely spontaneous, but, like the edict to keep my car door shut that one day, it was entirely intransigent, brooking no argument. I was getting one of these kits, that feeling said, no doubt about it -- a classic Compelling, of the kind I've come to know well.

Just a year ago, I might've hesitated. By this time, however, I was far beyond question. I ordered the first aid kit literally without a second thought, completing the transaction in less than a minute.

Now, fast-forward to today, when I received my intuitive lesson in expectation.

I was about to leave the house for the afternoon -- in my truck, key in ignition -- when a new Compelling befell me: check the mail. Even after everything, I almost ignored this one, since, as best I could recall, I had nothing coming in the mail (I'd entirely forgotten about the first aid kit by this time, as we do). But, of course, I ended up going with it, sparing the whole ten seconds to get out of my truck and open the nearby mailbox. Sure enough, a package was inside. It took me a moment to remember the first aid kit, but even when I did, it was an anticlimax: Okay, so the first aid kit I don't need has arrived. I got back in my truck.

Then came a second Compelling, now to unwrap the first aid kit.

Again I obeyed -- I would've used the kit to give first aid to a tree stump, had I been Compelled to do so. Afterward, I sat with the opened kit for a moment, studying the cheap Chinese-made packaging as I waited for a third Compelling. But no such Compelling came, so I finally started up my truck and left my driveway, the denuded first aid kit in my passenger's seat. Down the road, however, I got to thinking: this was all leading up to something, I was sure. Being no stranger to these Compellings, I knew from past experience that there was a good, logical reason for all this, as always. Never once had I been Compelled for naught, especially when a succession led me in a certain direction. I was going to need this first aid kit, I knew -- somehow, in some way, and in my truck of all places, I was going to need this dinky little $6.99 (shipped!) first aid kit.

My first thought: an accident.

I knew it at once: I was going to be in an accident, or was, perhaps, going to come across one that had already happened. It all made perfect sense, and I can't fault my logic, really: I'd been Compelled into having a first aid kit in my truck, opened and ready, and I'd never once been Compelled wrongly, so it was only natural to reason that some fashion of accident lay in my immediate future. After all, what else could it have been? First aid kit + truck + holiday-weekend drivers = accident. I didn't make assumptions of doom about this inevitable accident, at least; I'll give myself that. I stayed calm and cool-headed, but just went on alert for an accident of some kind, whatever that might entail. A good student of intuition, I was sure a new lesson was afoot, to further bolster my confidence in the Compellings by way of my being outfitted with the unlikely first aid kit.

That is to say, I was expecting an accident and its attendant exercise in intuition, since it was the only foreseeable outcome within my range of possibilities. And therein lies the heart of my lesson: that expectations can limit and restrict one's thinking, as to obscure possibilities outside of one's awareness (or imagination).

So, there I was, driving hyper-defensively, perpetually scanning for smoke or blood or crumpled car hoods. However, I arrived at my destination, a local gym, without incident, the first aid kit unused. I'll admit: I experienced a moment of doubt. Even after my years-long romance with my intuitive Compellings, and their consistent pay-offs, I still had the thought that, this time at least, I'd been mistaken. Maybe it was all in my head; maybe I'd allowed my illogical subconscious to lead me astray, buying up a first aid kit out of some hidden fear. Nobody is perfect, after all, so why couldn't I have been wrong to go along with my illogical urges? Everyone should be forgiven a mistake or two; I believe there should be vouchers issued for this, at birth.

As I was thinking these things, I was interrupted by yet another Compelling: now to open the first aid kit itself, and explore it.

Despite my self-doubt, I obeyed this one, also -- maybe slower, and a touch begrudgingly, but I obeyed. As I unzipped the flimsy nylon case, I distracted myself with the fact that it wasn't all such a bad idea, really, having a first aid kit in my truck -- because, after all, what if I did come upon an accident and needed to administer to an injured driver? And, likewise, it was probably best that I familiarize myself with the kit's contents, as this last Compelling had commanded. If nothing else, these ideas provided me some consolation, lending a bit of logic to my indiscretion.

And that's when I saw the wound on my hand.

I used my left hand to open the kit's flip-style flap, and in doing so, I upturned my palm, which had an open wound on it. I'd had a splinter there the day before, and it had been uncooperative enough to result in a bite-sized wound upon being coaxed out with tweezers. Still, nothing much to worry about, except for its location: being smack-dab on my palm, it was a prime target for contact with germ-ridden public surfaces. For this reason, I'd made it a point to put a Band-Aid on it before leaving the house, especially since I was going for a workout at the gym, to use public equipment handled by a great many unclean hands. But, of course, I forgot the Band-Aid, just like I forgot ordering the first aid kit.

Need a Band-Aid, I thought at once, still sitting in the gym's parking lot. Without protection of some kind, there was no way I was using the weight machines, since it would be asking for infection. I might as well have gone in there and licked the handles.

Upon having this thought, I realized that I held in my lap an open first aid kit. And there, just beneath the wounded left hand with which I'd opened the flap, was the kit's collection of small adhesive bandages. Being in the super-cheap kit, they were knockoffs rather than proper Band-Aids, but the one I put on my hand proved of resilient quality, withstanding the stresses incurred during my workout.

In my oversight and narrow thinking, never would I have expected needing a first aid kit in this manner. But then again, isn't this how we learn?

(A postscript: it was an interesting chance occurrence that led me to the first aid kit in the first place. I was browsing my email, and when I went to click on one, my mouse glitched and the cursor jumped, so that I instead clicked the previous sequential email -- a piece of spam mail which was chiefly advertising its ultra-cheap, $6.99-including-shipping first aid kits. My mouse does this every now and then, stuttering about erratically, God knows why. Had this chance glitch not occurred when it did, making me accidentally open a spam mailing that I never would've touched normally, I'd have never seen the kit that bore me my Band-Aid precisely at my moment of need ...)"


A cool question-and-answer this afternoon. It started when I bought some carrots at Earthfare; there, they had two displays of bagged carrots, one in the cooler and one out in the open, unrefrigerated. The unrefrigerated display stuck with me for some reason, and while fixing up the (refrigerated) bag of carrots I'd bought, I had the thought express thought of, "Carrots require refrigeration, don't they?" Common sense said they do, but apparently someone at Earthfare felt otherwise. Well, about 10 minutes later I sat down to eat the lunch I'd been fixing when I had this thought, and I picked up reading in the food allergies book where I'd left off last night. In the very first paragraph I read, it mentioned, explicitly, that carrots do, in fact, require refrigeration. I laughed out loud. So notable -- not just an express answer to my question, but in so short a timeframe. Also, I could totally rule out my subconsciously noticing this mention of carrots and refrigeration in the book when I stopped reading it last night, both because I remember shutting the book as soon as I turned the page, and because, after all, I can 100% trace my question-thought of whether carrots require refrigeration to my seeing the display at Earthfare earlier and then fixing up the carrots I'd bought.

Then, a minor recurrence that might have been nothing. While reading that first page of the food allergies book with the mention of carrots, etc, I had the thought, when reading about changing diet to suit food allergies, that many people would stop reading right there, with diet change being such a bitter pill to swallow. That was my expression thought, that it was "a bitter pill." Well, a minute or so later I read on the very next page of the book that changing the diet was "a bitter pill" -- exactly what I'd just thought, same words and everything. This one, however, I can't rule out subconscious reading-ahead, even though the repetition was on the next sequential leaf. Maybe something, maybe not.


Cool recurrence today. The day before last, I had the sudden and strong urge to look into the Army Reserves, despite having about zero interest in enlisting (nor the physical ability to do so). So I went and looked at a FAQ about the Reserves that night, skimming over it disinterestedly. One part I did notice and read fully was about how 17-year-olds can enlist, but only with their parents' permission, which stood out to me because I found it somewhat odd. It also bears mention that I'd never been aware of this odd fact before. Then, today, I started reading the 'Deserters' book, about the military, and it mentioned, within the first few pages, a man whom had gone to enlist at the age of 17 and needed his father's signature to do so. Somewhat notable, I think, since it's a pretty specific fact repeated within a pretty short time frame, and, once again, that it fits the recurrence pattern perfectly: learning a fact or something completely randomly, for the first time ever, then having that fact recur within a short or relatively short time.


A minor recurrence today, maybe nothing. Yesterday I encountered a man with a prosthetic leg while shopping for Roxanne in Walmart, the first I've seen in ... a long time, I don't know. Then today, I passed a man with an almost identical prosthetic along the road. I find it somewhat notable that I would see something relatively rare as a prosthetic leg (and of the same style, and both being below the knee only) twice, a day apart, but other than that, no other specifics. I could see this one relatively easily being chance, but thought I would note it.


First, a cool, classic book synchro. Yesterday I finished 'The Deserters,' in which a WWII deserter named Alfred Whitehead was one of three deserters profiled. Then, today, in the next sequential book I started afterward, 'I Am A Strange Loop,' within the first few pages it mentioned another Alfred Whitehead -- a professor, not the WWII deserter, but still highly notable, considering the exactness of the names (though I suppose this could make the incident even more notable, depending on how you look at it). It bears mentioning that not only were the two books read, again, completely randomly, and were, again, on completely different subjects (the first being about WWII deserters, the second being about consciousness and psychology, etc), but also, they were both library books that I chose not only randomly (when I had no idea of what to get when I went in), but on the same visit.

Then, a bit of a thought synchro: when reading the first line of the 'I Am A Strange Loop' today, something in it made me think of eagles, just before the next sentence mentioned eagles. I would easily attribute this to a case of subconscious reading-ahead, except that, once again, I could trace the exact emergence of my thought of eagles, which occurred completely independently of the word in the book.

Then, one that might be nothing, but seems a bit too conspicuous to be chance. This morning I did some internet research, and completely by chance ended up on a website for a travel-friendly shirt, which advertised the shirt as having a "sunglasses loop," a feature I'd never heard of until reading that. Then, minutes later, I opened a package I'd received the other day from my friend -- a package of birthday gifts, which I'd vowed not to open until my birthday (today). In the package was a shirt, and not only did this particular shirt appear very much like a "travel shirt," but it also has this little velcro-able strip of fabric on the chest, which appears very much to be designed to hold sunglasses or something similar in (I can't think of any other obvious purpose of this little catch). So it would seem that, just minutes after learning of the existence of a "sunglasses loop" on a shirt, I not only opened the gift package and encountered just such a shirt, but did so after receiving the package days ago (I had, actually, almost opened the package before I sat down at the computer and read of the sunglasses loop, but I thought, "No, I need to do the computer stuff first."). Maybe nothing, still, but I found it pretty cool regardless.

Then, another that might be nothing but still gave me a chuckle. A few days ago (2-3, something like that), I read in a book about a radio questionnaire that asked what you take to a desert island with you, assuming that one of the things would be the complete works of Shakespeare. Upon reading this, I had the distinct thought of, "I don't have the complete works of Shakespeare." Well, today, for my birthday, my brother gave me a massive tome containing the complete works of Shakespeare (completely randomly, with no prompting on my part of course). The chances seem relatively low, and the archetypes are definitely recurring, as well as the "question and answer" pattern.


First, a thought synchro that might have been nothing. I was sitting at a stoplight at an intersection, and had the random but distinct thought of how there was some kind of old-timey-car convention in town -- a split second before such a car pulled out in front of me. There were certainly a few of these cars driving around town, as had been the case for days, however I still found this notable because of the timing, which was so perfectly synced, in that distinctly synchronistic way I've come to recognize.

Then, throughout the day, I experienced another of those general "onslaught" type of deals, where so many little, individually insignificant things recurred over the last couple days, so much that I had to take notice. For instance, Cinnabons: last night at the restaurant, Aiden got excited about having Cinnabons for desert, and I remember thinking how it was the first I'd encountered Cinnabons in a very long time, and then today, on the first page of 'I Am A Strange Loop' when I picked up reading it at lunchtime, it mentioned Cinnabons. The same with my brother mentioning some obscure Carribean islands that I'd just learned about the day before, and my mom today mentioning, offhand, that most cellphones don't work internationally, when I'd just read up on this subject randomly the very day before (being ignorant to it beforehand). Also, seeing "Rube Goldberg-like" used in two separate places within the course of the day ('Strange Loop' book and then a random website), when I'd never heard of Rube Goldberg before (that I remember).


A four-part recurrnece today, spanning several different mediums, all bearing the archetype of "tracking in mud." It started sometime in the first half of the day, I can't remember quite when, with a vague thought about how, when I had my cable installed last year, the installer was either polite or disciplined enough to put covers over his shoes before coming in, as not to track in mud. I had this thought 1) distinctly yet absently, and 2) I can trace its origins to the fact that I need to run the cable into my basement since I'm moving down there. Then this afternoon I read in 'I Am A Strange Loop' a paragraph-long example that involved telling children not to track mud in the house. Then, thirdly, I just happened to accidentally track mud into the gym today, not realizing I'd stepped in it beforehand. Then, fourth, when I got home, my dad had the strange request of asking me to get something from upstairs and bring it down to him, and I had the thought, well why isn't he just getting it? Then, as I gave him the thing, he told me he didn't want to track mud through my house. If it were just the last two, I could easily attribute it to being on a rainy day; considering the vague thought and book parts, however, it seems pretty unlikely they would all come together like that, plus it all smells heavily of the usual recurrence voodoo.


I'm not quite sure what to call this one -- recurrence? directed thought influence? simple premonition? While cutting grass today, I saw a tenant come out and we waved at each other. Upon doing so, I had the distinct, vivid thought of this tenant giving me some candy and a thank-you note for cutting her grass, the way folks do mailmen and the like. I remember the thought very distinctly, as well as the fact that it wasn't so much that it would happen or that I wanted it to happen, but just that it could happen, and what it would be like if it did (which, I judged, would be "good" in a general sense). Well, about 20 minutes later I finished and went to my truck, and there on the toolbox was a little sachet-like bag filled with fun-size candy bars and a note reading "Thank you for doing our grass - enjoy." I've never before received such a thing, while cutting grass or ever, nor have I ever considered the possibility of receiving one until today. I can't be sure if the bag was left by the same tenant I saw earlier (my truck was parked where I'd seen her, so it's logical she lived in that part of the building and would've been near my truck), but in any case, the recurring theme is obvious, whether it was a simple recurrence or a simple case of some sort of ESP or precognition (or, perhaps, my distinct thought of "receiving candy and a thank-you note would be good" acting as a force that influenced the tenant to manifest this?).


A classic thought/reading synchro. I read something at the end of one page in a book, and it triggered a brief chain of thought that ended with me thinking, indirectly, of how sick and tired my eyes usually look. I thought this while in the process of turning the page, and then, in the very next sentence, a split second later, I read "his eyes were bleary and red" -- not precisely what I was thinking, literally, but precisely from a semantic standpoint, including the visual image I had of my "sick" eyes, which very much fit the description of "bleary and red." Plus, I can completely write-off a subconscious reading-ahead, since I thought it before turning the page, when I could write it off anyway since I could trace the triggering passage back to the previous page anyway. Still, potentially coincidental, but once again, it just fits the usual, split-second-synchrony pattern all too well.


A secondhand one from dad today. According to him, he was going down the road the other day and had the distinct thought of how he needed a folding table, and just afterward, traffic forced him down a sidestreet he didn't normally use. And of course, there, by a dumpster, was a folding table, exactly like he needed. I wouldn't mention this one, being entirely uncorroborated and not experienced by me personally, except that it fits that pattern I've seen so many times, both of the "question and answer"/"ask and ye shall receive" types, and also of one little, "chance" thought, event, or external circumstance resulting in that answer/receipt.


Some cool ones today. First, a sort of word/vague-thought synchro, not sure how to classify it. This morning, I had the distinct yet completely random thought of the figure of speech, "Something was xxx -- until it wasn't." It was the first I'd thought or heard of this type of expression for a long time, maybe years, and I went through this little discussion with myself on how to explain such strange syntax and wording to one unfamiliar with the phrase. Then, naturally, the figure of speech was used within the first couple pages of the 'Accidental Billionaires' book at lunch, a couple hours later. Mildly notable from a chance standpoint, but moreso from the patternistic semblance.

Then, a music/thought synchro that might have been nothing. While I was on the way to Roxanne's, I had the distinct thought of how I felt different today and how it was affecting my thinking, followed up immediately with the thought of how I felt feverous and simultaneously hot and cold. A couple seconds later (*not* instantly synchronistic), the song I was listening to said "New thoughts, feeling hot and cold." Though this wasn't an exact echo of my thoughts, it was exceedingly close, enough to fit the underlying sentiment -- and, additionally, it was *both thoughts,* together. Plus the timing, though not instantly synchronous, was close enough to be pretty wham-bam. I found this one reasonably notable.

Then, a pretty cut-and-dry word synchro: "Epidera." I read this in the 'Accidental Billionaires' book at lunch, and Noticed it pretty distinctly, since it was either the first I'd read of this term or it had been a long time since I'd last done so. Then, about two hours later when I went to pick up Roxanne's prescription, a woman came along just after me and asked to pick up her "Epidera, or whatever you call them." Pretty notable from timing, but also pattern, etc, etc, etc ...

Also, a minor recurrence that might be nothing. In the 'Accidental Billionaires' book today, there were several mentions of how the owners of Facebook were facing increased bandwidth/customer service needs as their user base grew exponentially. Then, tonight, I Just Happened to get an email from Spideroak mentioning how they were facing increased bandwidth/customer service needs after their user base has been growing exponentially. It bears mentioning that I just signed up for Spideroak yesterday, feeling Compelled to despite having no real immediate need to do so. There's the usual recurrence smell-likes: timing, pattern, etc. Though, not quite precise enough for me to say it's a synchronicity for sure.


Pretty damn notable thought/reading synchro today. While reading the 'Accidental Billionaires' book at lunch today, I stopped to take a bite of food. After doing so, I noticed that my pulse jumped up some, and I consciously tried to relax and slow it down, this being a regular occurrence when I'm eating, due to overconscious awareness of heartbeat, etc. when I went back to the book, a split second after thinking "to" my heart to slow down, the very next sentence was "He forced his pulse to return to a steady beat," the two corresponding in that distinct, perfectly synchronistic way. I would peg this as a subconscious-reading-ahead, except for the physical corrollary: my heart had to be beating faster, and me trying to consciously slow it down as I do, for the recurrence to even be possible, not to mention the timing involved. Pretty cool.


A couple neat recurrences today. This morning, I bid on a chance auction for an Apple laptop, and actually won, despite the bid being about half its worth. Then, at lunch today, my dad mentioned, with no prompting on my part, how the biggest company in the world is Apple. On the surface, this sounds totally unnotable, except 1) my dad doesn't just randomly harp on business subjects (first time he's spontaneously said something business-oriented, ever), and 2) for years I've been curious about Apple computers, never having owned one, and I've thought about getting a cheap Apple laptop just to play around with -- but I never actually pursued it until the last couple days, when I started trolling eBay on and off, and then I at last bid, for the first time, this morning, and won in an unlikely way, all coinciding with dad's uncharacteristic Apple outburst about 2.5-3 hours later. Still possibly a coincidence, since it wasn't at all precise apart from the theme of "Apple computer," but still, notable.

Then, a little more notable recurrence. Several days ago, I wrote an essay that started with the line, "There's no question: we are indeed living in the Information Age." Then, last night, I finally got around to editing the rough draft of this essay, after meaning to do it for days. Then, today at lunch, I started reading a book on hoaxes, which started with a one-page introduction beginning with a line nearly identical to that of my essay, except it cited "the Age of Information." That was notable enough, but the introduction then went on to talk about how there is an abundance of bad and flawed information in today's information explosion -- which was precisely the thrust of my essay, in almost the exact same wording like the intro line. I'd checked out the hoax book from the library totally randomly, several days ago. Highly notable, not just from the timing but also the distinct, multi-layered, reasonably complex underlying theme of "Information age/bad information" recurring.


Really cool recurrence today. This morning, I'd been thinking on and off several times about how the steam baths I'm doing feel like torture; in fact, in the past, I'd wondered this distcintly, whether steam baths or something like them are actually used as torture. Then, at lunch today, about 2-3 hours later, I started the 'Darkness at Noon' book, in which, within the first few pages, it mentioned steam baths being used as torture. Couldn't be a more direct hit, and the timing was pretty notable, along with the question-and-answer-type aspect of it all. It bears mentioning also that I'd planned on starting a different book today, but at the last moment had felt compelled to start the 'Darkness at Noon' one instead -- yet another patternistic parallel.

Also, a minor recurrence that might've been nothing. This morning, while researching infrared saunas, I by chance came upon the picture of a promotional photo of a pool float with a bikini-clad woman in it, in a certain relaxed pose (one of the infrared saunas I was looking at was being offered by a pool place). As it were, it was the first I've seen such a pool float in a while, maybe years. Then, a few hours later, on the way out of the gym, I was stopped by something in the trashcan: the box for a pool float, showing a bikini-clad model in the same laid-out pose. It wasn't the exact same photo, I don't think, and it wasn't any more specific than the theme of "pool float with bikini model in certain pose," but the fact of the close timing and the patternistic adherence made me feel it was worth noting.


An interesting three-way recurrence today. It started at the dump, when I Noticed a Monopoly game that someone had left with a coupel other board games by a dumpster. It was a distinct Noticing, the Monopoly one jumping out at me in that special way, where the other games didn't. Then when I came home, about an hour later, I again saw a Monopoly game, now in my garage, where my brother had brought it while moving in. I took notable of this, since I hadn't encountered Monopoly for quite a while, and then saw it twice within an hour, in unlikely ways (plus the Noticing), but I didn't really take note until the third part came. That evening, from out of nowhere, I felt Compelled to research Atlantic City, NJ. I ignored it at first, but then eventually capitulated. When I went to Atlantic City's Wiki page, I found nothing really notable except that the city was supposedly the inspiration for Monopoly. All of it could be coincidence still, but it does fit the pattern.


A thought/reading synchro to start my day. Right as I was thinking of my digestive problems, I checked my email and the very first email I saw had the subject line, "Is Poor Digestion Costing You Good Health?" Circumstances: I can directly trace back my train of thought regarding the digestive problems to the last email I'd read, which mentioned how good my friend's digestion was, which got me thinking how opposite mine is. The other email was in a different email account. Also, the "Poor Digestion" email wasn't just the first I saw, but it came up right where my eyes were already looking, as the browser logged me into the account. I can rule out any psychological cause, pretty reliably in this case. Plus, the correspondance of the "poor digestion" theme between my thought and the email subject was pretty explicit, and of course the timing was in that perfectly synchronistic fashion, and fit the classic pattern, etc, etc. Notable.

Also, a minor recurrence, just after the digestion thing. A few days ago, I chose the word "debussy" as part of a password (for something started as randomly), and that word stuck in my head. I knew I'd heard it before and that it had to do with someone famous (I first thought Gary Busey, or whatever his name is, but knew that wasn't right), but I couldn't remember who for some reason. Then, today, I was randomly and aimlessly browsing through a website and came upon a "Debussy's Greatest Hits" CD -- and there we go, a question-and-answer deal. This might easily be nothing, but I find the circumstances of it interesting, because the reason I was on the website (Barnes and Noble) was because I found a BN gift card at the dump yesterdy, which turned out to have $15 on it, and so I was, for the first time ever, browsing BN's website and, thus, saw the Debussy CD.

Then, a neat recurrence that is different than any I remember before. Two days ago, I randomly had the idea to move my mailbox so that I might have an extra parking space, and the very next morning, my dad came up here, and before I could broach the idea, he said the exact same thing, not only to move the mailbox so that I may have another space, but to move it to the exact same place. Still, I didn't really think this synchronistic, since I was having a parking problem and moving the mailbox was a logical solution. However, then it happened again, when I had the thought to put a ladder on the unfinished deck stairway so that I might start using it, and damned if dad didn't come up here this morning with the exact same idea. The latter made this notable, not just because the ladder was a little more obscure and less obvious, not to mention more random, but to happen twice in a row like this, in the exact same format, I found it notable.

Then, all through the day I've been experiencing random thought/reading synchros. It's another "onslaught" scenario, a whole bunch of small, individually unnotable ones that I might otherwise ignore, weren't there just so damn many. I noticed that most of these were just single words reflecting absent thoughts, but coinciding with them in that perfectly coincidental fashion. About all were verifiably objective, too, with the chain of thoughts able to be traced precisely, and psychological explanations discounted. For instance, I was thinking, while driving, of how I needed to get home and open up my house for my brother so he could move in his stuff, when a split second later I turned a corner and saw a sign reading "Open house," the two coinciding in that distinctly synchronistic fashion. Cool.


First, a recurrence that could easily have been nothing. This morning I finally moved my bed downstairs, after putting it off for days, and as I moved the box springs, I saw the Serta brand and its logo, for the first time in a while -- and Noticed them, very distinctly. Then, about an hour later, I was stopped at an intersection and a big tractor-and-trailer drove past, its trailer bearing an enormous Serta logo like I'd seen. I would've ignored this one completely except that 1) there was the Noticing, which adds an element of notability, and 2) the timing was pretty close, when, once again, I hadn't seen anything Serta for a while.

Then, another minor one that might or might not be anything. Today I took my mom some junky snackfoods that I got for free but don't want to eat, and she got somewhat excited about one of them, some salty/crunchy-type things, because just the night before she'd been expressly wanting something like that. There's no precision beyond that, and it could easily be nothing, except that it "smells" like one of those "question-and-answer"-type deals, where an absent thought of "I want such-and-such" manifests soon after (less than a day, in this case). Also, there's the fact that I've had this bag of snacks for over two months and just today finally took them to my parents', which Just Happened to be after mom had wanted something like that.

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