Sitting in MaryAnne's house watching David Beckham hacking his way through an Amazon rainforest adventure that carefully skirted around the slash'n'burn, logging and oil pollution, I realised how much synchronicity had been crashing in over the last two days, and how I'd been bemoaning its absence some time shortly before that. June 9th was yesterday, and June 9th has a significance (to me). This evening, the thought struck home as to what synchronicity might actually be. And that was a pretty powerful resonance. The sense it made was intense. It made sense not only of the sensation of synchronicity itself, but the reason it happens, and the reason we have the funny feeling there's something vaguely magical about it.
Synchronicity hits our reality in short moments, and we forget them fast unless they're really, really strong and hit us hard. Like dreams, most of the time they flit by forgotten but something that has a big impact might just get remembered, and the ones we remember are the ones that turned out to have that big impact we had the feeling they'd have at the time. So that's the reality, as far as it goes, in our perception, and there we generally stop, with a little question mark over our minds and nothing more.
We have a timeline that runs a linear course through what is after all a quantum sea. Advanced waves come at us from the future, retarded waves smack us from the past. Where they meet is the present, that's what we live through. But we're not alone, of course, and what other people/things/planets do has an impact on what happens to us. What if, when something of magnitude happens on another timeline, we're riding an advanced/retarded set of ripples which create a standing wave? It'd only be there for a moment, as we are constantly travelling through time, but at times of choppiness, with lots of events happening round our timeline to potentially affect us like rainfall on a pond, there would be lots of these standing waves cropping up at once. Once in a while, some great fish might jump in the pond to smack us across the face with its tail, and we get a big significance which somehow we recognise as being big, even though we've no idea why it happened. Two events collide in our own timeline, pushed together by the impact of the standing-wave effect, and past and future merge into two events which are intrinsically connected, instantly, simply because it has to be that way. The important thing from our point of view, if this scenario is correct, is that when we get smacked with a major synchronicity something big has flopped into our ocean and we are likely to get something from it at some point in time. Like radar beacons flashing across our destiny, synchronicity is there to prove that everything is truly, genuinely connected and we have every right to trust that there's a bigger picture, and some kind of plan - whether or not there's anyone to master it being irrelevant, the significance being only that a master plan there is. Ballerina's skirts - there to be looked up.
Synchronicity and dreamscape probably have lots in common, just as quarks and neutrinos do. The former beavers away in material reality, the latter exists in a constant light-speed blur that we don't even really recognise. We sleep, we dream, we wake up again.
What is loveable about all this stuff is that it might actually be true. If it is, then there's no fluffy-bunny cosiness about a belief system that's constantly open to re-interpretation. There's absolutely no constant to worry about because the universe just don't work like that. What's the point of laying constants in the face of uncertainty? UP'll just tread all over them and do exactly what it wants, which won't ever be the same as what it did before.
Kathy is the author of Quantumology. She met up with quantum mechanics in 1997, pledging allegiance to its sources thereafter. These are her personal thoughts and testimonies.