Synchronicity

Synchronicity exists in the person, not in the “real” world (whatever that is.) Two things happen all the time. Why do we sometimes go “Whoa! Those two things just happened!”

My theory is that humans are weird and we don’t really need to survive most of the time. We have all this extra time to get in trouble and a neo-cortex that’s only been around for a few million years. Who knows what all it does.

We are apparently wired to supply meaning to just about anything. (E.g. socks!) There’s a part of the brain that supplies a sense of importance to what we experience. The attribution of importance is great for survival: that lion sneaking up is more important than that grazing giraffe. If you drop acid, this part of the brain will fire like crazy and suddenly everything will be super meaningful.

There is also an area of the temporal lobe that when artificially activated creates feelings of “oneness with God”, just like there are areas of the occipital lobe that when artificially activated produce visual hallucinations. It’s only logical to assume that these parts of the brain evolved to respond to real stimuli; we have yet to find an example of a physical body evolving to adapt to something that does not exist. But again, it’s up to us to figure out whether we are hallucinating or not.

So, I have this body and it does this weird thing where it sees two things and goes “whoa! that was awesome” when part of my brain supplies the importance and another part supplies the god-touch. And sometimes this is completely made up and leads me on a merry chase through the illusionary astral. Sometimes it leads to good luck. And once in a great while it does lead up.

Learning the difference is helpful. Learning to find the one you want is magic. But what the heck do I know? All I am certain about right now is that I’m in a body that does certain things that may or may not lead to other things and I get to decide if I like where I’m going but I don’t necessarily know how to change course and anyway, most of the things that are happening to me are really happening to other people.

Oh, and atoms are made of nothing and dreams. I’m apparently quite convinced of that as well.

Curiosity

We start embattled, our identity formed in response to the rapid assault of birth. It starts the journey. We are separate from all others. Such a shock from the womb where in the dark we were the world. And now, alone and distinct with our suits of skin, we fight to breathe, to damn the air with our screams.

One thing. The terror is assuaged by only one thing. There is softness. Soft flesh that soothes and feeds. Kindness. Gentleness. And from that can spring a curiosity of the world.

What is this place to which I have come into being? This ground from which the body forms, and thus gives rise to the terror and the kindess. How then to enjoy division and separation, rather than flee from it.