A couple of weeks back, Richard and I constructed an upgrade for my windowsill and living room, from a selection of beechwood that he’d personally cut down. He didn't want to hear about any kind of payment: I’d already helped him to translate a booklet. We spent an entire Wednesday in and around his workplace, to talk and do something that’s supposed to look like work. We made something beautiful and ended the day with dinner at his house.
A week later I transported our creation to my house, to find out that to make it all fit, I still had some sawing to do. I contacted a couple of people to borrow a compass saw, when I suddenly remembered the birthday invitation I’d received from a friend, who has his own painting and construction company. I sent him a text message, and sure enough, at the end of the day I stopped by his house to pick up his tool.
Yesterday morning I finished fitting it all in. I was left with a redundant little IKEA-cupboard. So I wrote a little note, “I’m not trash, feel free to take me with you, for free!”, and I took the cupboard outside to park it on the pavement. But as I closed the door and looked across the street towards Floria’s flower shop, “Hey, maybe she wants to have it!” popped up. So I took both whim and cupboard into her shop, to her absolute delight: it was exactly the kind of flowerpot-stall she was looking for. In her favourite colour green of course.
She asked me: “How much do you want for it?” I was a bit surprised and blurted out “Well, nothing of course!” and then changed my mind: “You can give me some flowers some time, when I get back from holiday.” Back home, I thought of the evening’s mission: picking up a massive indoor plant from a friend who’s leaving for Colombia and who can’t take it with him. And another whim came up: “What if Floria gives me some seeds, so we can exchange plant for seeds?” So back to her shop I went, and out I came with a bag full of tulip bulbs. Which my friend happily accepted in return for his plant.
Now this may all seem like nothing - coincidence at the most. But I see a brilliant piece of synchronicity at play. An intelligence that puts itself to work without my ‘doing’ anything. I’m baffled to see things coming together at exactly the right moment and place. I don’t know how it works, I just know that it does: all the time, on different levels.
Sometimes synchronicity comes in disguise, pretending to be a nasty “this shouldn’t have happened” kind of thing. But a little later I come to realize that everything is always exactly how it should be. And all I can do is embrace what happens, allow it to happen, and to be grateful. And writing those words makes me realize: the more grateful we are, the more synchronicity we experience, the easier life becomes. Or feels. Or both:-). Cheers!
Curious about Richard? Here he is!