“How do we explain synchronistic moments that occur when we happen upon them?” ~ Tony Ten Fingers

Times Square in the Rain, 1949 by Fred Stein
Times Square in the Rain (1949)
by Fred Stein


Two for Tuesday (plus one): Rain

My dear,

I don’t know what to do today, help me decide.

Should I cut myself open and pour my heart on these pages? Or should I sit here and do nothing, nobody’s asking anything of me after all.

Should I jump off the cliff that has my heart beating so and develop my wings on the way down? Or should I step back from the edge, and let the others deal with this thing called courage.

Should I stare back at the existential abyss that haunts me so and try desperately to grab from it a sense of self? Or should I keep walking half-asleep, only half-looking at it every now and then in times in which I can’t help doing anything but?

Should I kill myself or have a cup of coffee?

Falsely yours,

Albert Camus



Woke up this morning with
a terrific urge to lie in bed all day
and read. Fought against it for a minute.

Then looked out the window at the rain.
And gave over. Put myself entirely
in the keep of this rainy morning.

Would I live my life over again?
Make the same unforgiveable mistakes?
Yes, given half a chance. Yes.

~ Raymond Carver


Rainy Day by Rafael Dos

Water Damage

Let me destroy everything that I’ve written
that doesn’t have to do with the way you walk like you’re trying to hold
the sky up with your palms.

I’ve been listening to the rain for the past couple of days, have
been listening to songs that sound like what the rain would say if she
spoke English instead of Morse code, and if my
translations are correct, all she wants is for us to stand beneath her
with our mouths open, mouthing — kiss me.

I love like a leaky faucet or I love like a dam breaking.
There is nothing in between.

When I met you, the little Dutch boy pulled his finger
out of my chest and suddenly, everything inside of me spilled out at once.

I puddled an ocean, rounded the corner on Third Ave all the way uptown
to Grand Central like a flash storm, and
suddenly —

I couldn’t touch a thing without inflicting
water damage, without you breaking apart every molecule
that I had ever known.

~ Shinji Moon


Music by Stefano Battaglia Trio, “Ismaro”

13 thoughts on ““How do we explain synchronistic moments that occur when we happen upon them?” ~ Tony Ten Fingers

  1. oh… and as for the synchronistic moments… I used to wonder that too… but then I came to realise they are there to be seen, had, tasted, felt and taken advantage of all the time. Possibly every moment of the day. Some we just take for granted and most, I suspect, we are simply oblivious to – not open to, unaware of.

    So when we do step into one, we are inevitably surprised. But it’s probably akin to suddenly realising the sun rises in the exact same spot every single day. Amazing. And it is… that is does and that we notice.

    That said, once I realised there were an infinite amount of synchronistic moments to be had or discovered, I started noticing and expecting them. And sure enough – I get a lot more of them.

    Yeah, yeah… 500 years ago I would have been burned at the stake. How fortuitous I am living now…

    1. As for the synchronistic moments, they come at me in groups, probably because (as you pointed out) they are there all of the time, but we are oblivious, and then when we notice, they are everywhere.

      As for the stake and the fire, I believe that we would have probably been partners at the stake. I tell Corey all of the time that I’m lucky I wasn’t around centuries ago because between my pronounced widow’s peak, my inability to keep my mouth closed, and a few other thing, they would certainly have burned me or dunked me or something.

  2. Should I kill myself or have a cup of coffee? Oh my… I’ve always been inordinately fond of Camus considering my evidently cheerful nature. And yet… and yet… I guess I’ll go have that cup of coffee – there’s too much work to be done to consider the alternative…

    1. I had never seen that particular passage by Camus before, and when I came across it, I just had to use it . . . but how? A post by itself? A header? Too long, and i didn’t want to cut it, so I figured pairing it with two poems was probably the best way.

      I really love it as it expresses so perfectly my state of mind lately.

      1. I think in most of his early work the ‘why not suicide’ question played very strongly. But as he aged it was not only less of an issue, but I do believe he dismissed it as a youthful obsession.

        I came by Camus in my mid-20s (talk about synchronicity!) riding home from my depressing bank job on the bus in the rain. I spotted a seat and smack-dab in the middle of it was a paperback of The Myth of Sisyphus. It was a library book and I planned to return it on behalf of the borrower that had dropped it – but I started reading it and it was just bashing my heart and my brain and … ugh… I was disconsolate by the time I got to my stop and I had to pull myself together for my husband and my child…

        I still have that little paperback.

      2. I think you’ll find it interesting – but I also suspect that it’s best read while young and those questions are more of an abstract… You get a few years on you and life and death have become far more real and toying with them is not as easy.
        But I still enjoy his disconnected observations

  3. I’ve spent a lot of time wondering about synchronistic moments. I’ve had some amazing “coincidences” happen, or shall I say which I’ve noticed happen. Most are completely inexplicable.
    In the last few years, I’ve moved through acceptance of the mystery and my part in creating these synchronicities. I’ve passed beyond confusion and now spend more time in joy, gratitude, and wonder.
    These rainy moods, this flow of curiosity, this torrent of ideas and emotions; a river runs through them. I remember hearing about a fish who was thirsty because she couldn’t see the water.
    Thanks for being part of our collective interbeing, our sharing of the noticing of the many interconnections between us.

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