Unquiet
Things

As a writer, blogger, and (most importantly) a voracious reader, I’ve long been beguiled by the weird, wonderful threads that stitch seemingly random experiences together. These uncanny echoes, what Carl Jung called synchronicities, are like tiny magic tricks the universe performs for the observant soul. They have been a constant companion in my literary journeys, often leaving me breathless with wonder and pondering the hidden mechanics of our universe.

A recent example, and the thing that actually inspired this blog post, happened just this morning. Within the span of five minutes, I encountered two strikingly similar instances in completely unrelated texts. In Calling a Wolf a Wolf, a book of poetry by Kaveh Akbar, I came across the line, “…hobble back to your hovel like a knight moving in Ls.” The vivid imagery of a chess piece’s movement stuck with me as I set the book aside. Moments later, I picked up Spiritus Mundi, an anthology by contemporary creatives inspired by occult writing prompts. There, in a description of a dream, I read of a bed “hovering, darting over the floor like a chess piece in L-shapes.”

The parallel was unmistakable – two distinct authors, in two entirely different contexts, conjuring the same unusual image of L-shaped movement. What are the odds? And yet, in the world of synchronicities, such occurrences seem to happen with surprising frequency.

These literary echoes aren’t confined to the realm of fiction and poetry. Often, they bridge the gap between the written word and our lived experiences. Just today, I found myself fretting and extremely agitated over the state of our lawn. With Ývan nursing a broken foot and all our attempts at finding temporary lawn maintenance services mysteriously unresponsive, I’ve been anxiously eyeing the growing grass, all too aware of our HOA’s stringent standards and all the judging eyes of the neighborhood.

To take my mind off it for a moment, I randomly opened The Sphinx and the Milky Way: Selections from the Journals of artist Charles Burchfield. To my astonishment, I found him lamenting the very same issue – the pressure to maintain a perfectly manicured lawn in a neighborhood of immaculate yards. He writes of cutting down bunches of weed, plants that he actually deems quite beautiful, “Back of it all was the custom of people to have neat flat lawns–our front yard was a “disgrace,” and, accordingly, I was out with my sickle.” Burchfield’s frustration penned almost 100 years ago in 1925, mirrored my own current predicament with uncanny accuracy.

These synchronicities, while fascinating, often leave us grasping for explanations. Are they merely coincidences, random alignments in the vast tapestry of human experience? Or do they point to something deeper, a hidden order in the universe that occasionally makes itself known through these moments of convergence?

Carl Jung believed these meaningful coincidences were evidence of an acausal connecting principle – a force that links events not through cause and effect, but through meaning and significance. He saw synchronicities as moments when the collective unconscious bubbles up into our conscious awareness, revealing connections that transcend our ordinary understanding of time and space. As a reader and writer, I find Jung’s perspective particularly compelling. Books, after all, are portals to the collective human experience. They allow us to tap into the thoughts, emotions, and observations of countless individuals across time and space. Perhaps it’s not so surprising, then, that as we immerse ourselves in this vast sea of human consciousness, we occasionally encounter currents that align with our own lives in startling ways.

But synchronicities aren’t just curiosities to be marveled at and forgotten. They can serve as powerful tools for self-reflection and personal growth. When we encounter these meaningful coincidences, they often highlight aspects of our lives or psyches that we might otherwise overlook.

For instance, the recurring chess knight imagery I encountered could be seen as an invitation to consider the non-linear paths we sometimes need to take in life. Just as the knight moves in unexpected L-shapes on the chessboard, perhaps there’s an area of my life where an unconventional approach might yield surprising results. Similarly, Burchfield’s lawn-related frustrations resonating with my own current situation might be prompting me to examine my relationship with societal expectations and the pressures of conformity. Am I, like Burchfield, chafing against norms that don’t align with my values or natural inclinations?

Synchronicities can also serve as creative sparks, igniting new ideas and connections in our minds. As a writer, I often find that these moments of convergence become seeds for new blog posts, essays, or poems. They invite us to explore the liminal spaces between different ideas, disciplines, and experiences, often leading to fresh insights and innovative thinking. Frequently, I’ll be working on a piece of writing and suddenly recall a perfect reference or idea that I’ve encountered in my reading. What’s remarkable is that these references often come from sources that seem entirely unrelated to my current work. Yet, they fit seamlessly into the piece I’m crafting, as if they were waiting to be discovered and used in this exact context.

An experience late last year perfectly encapsulates this phenomenon. While preparing for an interview with Adam Rowe about his book on 70s Sci-Fi Art, I was concurrently reading John Koenig’s Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows – a work that, while not directly related to science fiction, explores otherworldly notions and ineffable experiences.

In Koenig’s book, I encountered the concept of “Astrophe” – the feeling of being irrevocably tethered to Earth while longing for the stars, that bittersweet mix of dreaming of other worlds and being constantly pulled back to earthly reality. This concept, emerging from a book ostensibly unrelated to my interview preparation, provided the perfect springboard for a question to Rowe:

“Is there a particular sci-fi artwork you revel in or an artist you admire whose art is so bold and striking that somewhere in your mind, it permanently yanks you right out of Earth’s orbit, perhaps quells that Astrophic yearning?”

This question, born from the collision of Koenig’s philosophical musings and Rowe’s exploration of science fiction art, bridges two seemingly disparate worlds. It invites a deeper reflection on the power of visual art to transport us beyond our earthly confines, even if only in our imagination.

Of course, it’s important to maintain a balanced perspective when it comes to the stuff of synchronicity. While they can be meaningful and insightful, it’s all too easy to fall into the trap of seeing significance in every coincidence. This can lead to magical thinking and a disconnection from reality. The key, I believe, is to remain open to these experiences without becoming obsessed with them or reading too much into every chance alignment.

Cultivating an awareness of synchronicities isn’t some magical talent – it’s a skill we can hone over time. I recall an early exercise in my high school AP English class that, while not synchronicity in the strictest sense, helped attune me to these literary coincidences. Our teacher encouraged us to note down on index cards any instances where we encountered our vocabulary words outside of class. The very evening after this assignment was given, I heard the word ‘surreptitious’ used in a rerun of Roseanne! It was either that or The Simpsons –in any case, it was an unexpected find. This exercise trained me to be more aware of the connections between my academic reading and the wider world.

As readers, we can cultivate a mindset that’s receptive to synchronicities without actively seeking them out. This involves maintaining a wide-ranging reading habit, exposing ourselves to diverse perspectives and ideas. It also means staying present and mindful as we read, allowing ourselves to fully engage with the text and notice connections that might otherwise slip by unnoticed.

Keeping a reading journal can be an excellent way to track and reflect on these synchronistic experiences. By noting down striking passages, recurring themes, or moments when a text seems to speak directly to our current circumstances, we create a record of these meaningful coincidences. Over time, patterns may emerge, offering deeper insights into our own psyches and the themes that resonate most strongly with us.

In my own practice, I’ve found that sharing these synchronicities – whether through public blog posts, private journaling, or conversations with fellow readers– can amplify their impact. Not only does this allow us to gain new perspectives on these experiences, but it also creates a sense of connection with others who have had similar encounters. There’s something deeply affirming about realizing that you’re not alone in experiencing these uncanny moments of convergence, and as we navigate the complex web of our lives, with all its challenges, joys, and mysteries, synchronicities serve as gentle reminders of the interconnectedness of all things. They whisper to us of hidden patterns and unseen connections, inviting us to look beyond the surface of our everyday experiences.

In reflecting on literary synchronicities, I realize that what truly captivates me is not just the phenomenon itself, but the magnetic pull it exerts on my curiosity and imagination. These uncanny convergences of text and life, of disparate books echoing each other across time and space, have held me spellbound for years. Perhaps it’s the thrill of discovery, the feeling of being let in on a cosmic secret each time I stumble upon a meaningful coincidence. Or maybe it’s the way these synchronicities transform the solitary act of reading into something more expansive, connecting me to a vast web of ideas and experiences that extends far beyond the pages in my hands.

There’s a comfort, too, in sensing an underlying order to the seemingly chaotic flow of life and literature. Each synchronicity feels like a gentle reassurance that my voracious reading habit is more than just a personal indulgence – it’s a way of attuning myself to the hidden rhythms of the universe. In exploring these literary convergences, I’m really excavating my own psyche, uncovering the deep-seated need to find meaning and connection in the world around me. And in sharing these experiences, I invite others to join me in this wonder, to see their own reading lives through this lens of magical possibility. After all, isn’t that shared sense of awe and discovery what draws us to literature in the first place?

The decision to pair this introspection on literary synchronicities with the artwork of Remedios Varo feels like a synchronicity in itself – a perfect convergence of text and image that speaks to the mysterious interconnectedness that so captivates me. Varo’s surrealist paintings, with their dreamlike quality and intricate, often impossible machines, beautifully capture the essence of what draws me to these meaningful coincidences. Her works often depict figures engaged in arcane pursuits, surrounded by swirling energies and cosmic symbolism, mirroring how I, as a reader, find myself caught in the eddies of unexpected connections.

The way Varo blends the mundane with the magical – ordinary rooms opening onto vast, starry voids, or domestic objects revealing hidden, otherworldly purposes – echoes my own experiences of finding profound links between everyday reading and life. Her recurring motifs of threads, webs, and intricate patterns visually represent the invisible links that I’m constantly seeking and discovering. In Varo’s world, as in my world of synchronicity-attuned reading, reality is permeable, full of hidden doorways and unexpected connections. Her art reminds me why I’m so drawn to these literary convergences: they reveal that beneath the surface of our ordinary lives lies a realm of wonder and mystery, waiting to be discovered by those with eyes to see. Just as Varo’s paintings invite viewers into a world where the impossible becomes possible, my fascination with literary synchronicities stems from a desire to uncover the magical in the mundane, to find meaning and connection in the vast tapestry of words and experiences that surround us.

So the next time you encounter an uncanny parallel between your books and your life, or between two seemingly unrelated texts, pause for a moment. Savor the shiver of recognition, the sense of wonder that washes over you. Reflect on what this convergence might be highlighting in your life, what invitation it might be extending. And then, by all means, keep reading. For in the vast library of human experience, who knows what synchronicity might be waiting for you on the next page?