Patricia Comb
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SYNCHRONICITY

1/28/2018

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No, I am not going all scientific again and I'm definitely steering clear of the spiritual and mathematical meanings attached to synchronicity, or we could be here all day. I am confining myself purely to the idea of  similar events happening by chance at the same time which appear to be related to one another. As you will have guessed, dear reader, this subject leads on from last week's thoughts on random distribution. I mentioned dreaming about strangling a cat. Sharp intake of breath all round. I love cats and dogs, all animals come to that, so why my sub-conscious should want to strangle one I do not know. I hope it is not a metaphor for my spouse, as he has been particularly good lately - 'good' as in 'normal' and not getting into any scrapes whereby I would wish to kill him.

   So, I arise from my bed somewhat disturbed by the cat strangling dream, (it was a white one by the way, a bit along the lines of a small fluffy Persian), and begin my day. As I check my Facebook page there is a notification from my friend Rachelle regarding our lunch together the previous day. One of her friends had made a humorous comment and I clicked on to this lady's page. And the last post she had put up was the report of the Croydon Cat Strangler. Eek! I immediately clicked off this page. I was born in Croydon and had I not just strangled a cat and was it just in my dreams? Synchronicity and I do not wish to delve any further into that one.

   On a happier note, I telephoned my editor last evening to discuss an idea for a new book. She was really spooked. No, dear reader, I do not generally have this effect upon people and not upon my lovely editor. She was spooked because she had just been thinking about me and was about to pick up the phone. Synchronicity?? I like to think so.

   Now I really start to think about this notion of synchronicity, I can recall two further instances of its occurrence in my life, although from some time ago.  I was once hiking along a coastal path in Dorset, minding my own business and had settled into that semi-trance like state that you sometimes do when the walking is going well, when a voice penetrated my half-conscious state, calling out my name. Looking up from the path and focussing on the world once more, there was a work colleague from 10 years ago dancing about on the path in front of me. Of all the places in the world ... and of all the people in all the world, as in her previous life she had been Miss Glamourpuss Supreme and wouldn't have been seen dead anywhere on the planet in hiking boots and woolly bobble hat.  But there she was. We had both decided to walk that stretch of coastline on the same day. My, my, there was a bit of catching up to do on that occasion. 

   I promise I won't rabbit on much longer on this subject, dear reader, but really, once you start on it, it's amazing what comes to mind - have a go yourself, you won't be disappointed. I was once connected to a totally different number from the one I thought I had dialled, no doubt I should have put my glasses on to see the buttons clearly. But what a bonus for me, as in the course of finding out that it was the wrong number, I recognised the voice at the other end. It was an old school friend and her voice had not changed at all, despite the passage of more years than I care to mention. What are the odds on that one? Not only that, but what made it synchronicity was that she had been trying to find me with a view to setting up a whole reunion affair and had had no luck. Ha, 'there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' The old Bard knew a thing or two I reckon.

   No more dreams for me this week, I hope and no philosophising. And definitely no cat strangling, real or imagined. My derriere needs to be attached to my chair and a fair bit of work put into the latest fiction project, or the wrath of Editor Genghis and Spouse may be coming my way - and it won't need synchronicity for that to happen ..... See you next week, dear reader, have a great Sunday.



   

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