Synchronicity is a personal thing, as I understand the definition. Two people might see the same objects or events occur in juxtaposition, and they may or may not both call it a coincidence. It only becomes synchronicity in the mind of the one who sees an added layer of meaning or significance revealed in the moment. For me, sometimes, synchronicity can simply be the Universe winking at me.
Sunday morning, early, more early than usual, I was up and about after getting very little sleep the night before. I was already out in the driveway, pulling the car out, getting ready to make a long drive into the city. As I closed the garage door, I noticed bits of trash on the pavement. Our neighbors do not seem to respect the imaginary line which divides our properties, and I frequently find evidence of their litter on my side.
I picked up one bit, a dirty popsicle stick, planning to pitch it back into their yard, but my eyes caught a glimpse of text printed on the wood. It was a riddle, the kind meant for grade school children to exchange and giggle over its cleverness. I had heard this one before, and never thought it to be particularly funny. For no particular reason, I decided to drop the stick back where I had found it, in my own driveway.
I got in my car, still operating on mental auto-pilot, and drove off in the direction of coffee. I had to force myself to think about my eventual destination and which route into the city I should choose. It was only in that moment of clarity that I made the connection — the riddle was a commentary on the event I was driving to!
What did the fish name its offspring? GILL
Can you guess where I was headed? It was the PKD Festival, organized by one David Gill. Realizing that I had just seen the name GILL on a popsicle stick made me laugh. Then the connection between Philip K. Dick and the symbol of a fish came to mind, and I was suddenly in awe at the Universe and its sense of humor. (If you don’t know about the significance of PKD and the fish symbol, click there for a quick description.)
I saw David many times over the course of that two-day festival, but I never got the chance to tell him about my revelation. Fortunately, when I got home late on Sunday night, the popsicle stick was still there, waiting for me to pick it up again. I’m saving it now, as a souvenir.