I walk through life as half asleep as the next person, I guess...but sometimes, synchronicity slaps me upside the noggin and says, "Yo! Human! Get your heart and mind out of this befuddled daze you're in and look! I've got all sorts of cramazingness waiting for you -- all you have to do is reach out and embrace it!" You get hit in the noggin often enough with love like that, you'll eventually start looking for it. I've been looking for it. And this week, I found it. Without further ado or adon't, here's what synchronicity plopped into my lap this week.
I talk a lot about synchronicity. That’s when a bunch of unrelated stuff happens, but it’s all pointing toward the same thing, and it happens and points over and over again until you turn your stubborn head and open your eyes to it and say, “Okay, I get it!”
And then you do something about it.
The Synchronized Universe Hits You in the Head (Ouch)
I guess this is what people used to call “serendipity.” But I prefer synchronicity, because I like the idea that a bunch of coolness in the universe gets synchronized in order to get a person’s attention. I think synchronicity affects every single one of us every single day — we just don’t pay enough attention to realize it.
I also believe that synchronicity is a conscious force that rejoices in our every breath and wants to permeate our every moment with beauty, truth, and goodness.
(At this time, I’d like to insert yet another plug for Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, the book that taught me to pay attention to synchronicity.)
I walk through life as half asleep as the next person, I guess…but sometimes, synchronicity slaps me upside the noggin and says, “Yo! Human! Get your heart and mind out of this befuddled daze you’re in and look! I’ve got all sorts of cramazingness waiting for you — all you have to do is reach out and embrace it!”
You get hit in the noggin often enough with love like that, you’ll eventually start looking for it.
I’ve been looking for it. And this week, I found it. Without further ado or adon’t, here’s what synchronicity plopped into my lap this week.
In comments on his post WARNING: Perfectionism will Kill You, Michael Martine and I had the following exchange:
Michael: Do what feels right to you but be aware of the edges of your comfort zone, your self-censoring and your perfectionism. …Being a little scared to hit Publish because you were raw or personal or opinionated is a good thing. : )
Courtney (that’s me): You really do hit the nail on its proverbial little head, don’t you? ; ) It’s true, I do censor myself too much. I’m still overcoming lifetime of training that says, “Don’t say that; you’ll offend someone. Don’t say that; you’ll hurt someone’s feelings.” Not that I want to hurt anyone’s feelings — but I do want to write truth, no matter how gritty it gets.
Oh crap. There’s another new blog post to write. *sigh* ; )
Every morning, I listen to El Edward’s Impassionate, audio posts designed to start your day with a little kick of joy and optimism. A few days ago, El talked about going big or going home. She encouraged her listeners to get out of our ruts and get out of our comfort zones. If there’s something we feel passionate about — or something we could become passionate about, if we’d only allow ourselves — then it’s time to stop dithering and worrying. It’s time to get out and do.
Dream or Nightmare?
Sometime along in there, between impassioned audio posts and admonishing blog comments, I woke up one morning from a very disturbing dream. I’ll spare you the rather awful details, but here’s the gist of it:
I dreamed that I was marooned on an island with a large group of people. Most were strangers; some were acquaintances. But while I was on this island, the whole group — strangers and non-strangers alike — regularly attacked me. I endured the torment for weeks before I managed to escape. “Escape” consisted of submerging myself in a pond beneath a dock by day, then creeping around at night to find food.
Eventually, the dream switched to a later time at which I was accusing some of my attackers — the acquaintances. Through tears, I demanded to know why they had treated me so horribly. I never got an answer.
Unstressed Syllables and Twitter
You’d think that by this time, I would’ve been getting the message. But no, synchronicity had two more nudges for me…and they came in the form of my own unexpected self-expression.
In this week’s edition of What I Learned About Writing This Week on Unstressed Syllables, I wrote on Allen Ginsberg. He said something really stunning about following our inner moonlight. In WILAWriTWe, I respond by taking myself to task for not having the guts to speak truth in its bluntest, basest form.
Later, “out of nowhere” (ha ha), I tweeted this:
Sometimes, the loudest rejection you can hear is another’s silence. Ignore it! Listen instead to the supportive voices who rejoice with you!
Egad and zounds, Watson-by-George, I think she’s got it.
Remarkablogger Michael told me to stop self-censoring and start saying what I really need to say — but be respectful of the consequences.
El’s Impassionate reminded me to stop dithering around in my comfort zone, get out, and go big.
Less than a week after I published my first novel, my dream revealed that I’m feeling vulnerable to strangers and acquaintances. (Me, feel vulnerable after publishing a book? Shocker.)
Allen Ginsberg admonished me to revel in being different, in being a little crazy, in being a little dark.
My tweet knocked me on the noggin, saying, “Hello? Helloooo! Anybody home?”
“Okay, I get it!”
The creative, benevolent, loving force that rules my life is sending synchronicity my way.
I am determined to open my arms and receive it.
I will speak the truth.
I will speak the fears, the loneliness, the rejection. I will speak the joys, the all-encompassing wonder, the acceptance. I will not hide these things from others. I will not secret them away for fear of the consequences.
I will not hide my heart.
And that is why I wrote this blog post. : )
P.S. A shout-out to Judy Dunn of Catseyewriter for inspiring the title. ; )
Photo credit Julie V. Photography.