Synchronicity indicates the right path

When things begin to click into place, you'll know it

Coined by psychiatrist Carl Jung about a century ago, synchronicity describes events that coincide in time and appear meaningfully related, yet lack a discoverable causal connection. In other words, synchronicities are coincidences that indicate something deeper and meaningful to the observer. I take them to mean that I’m on the right path—I’m where I’m supposed to be.

In years past I wasn’t especially tuned in to notice coincidences or primed to ascribe them with any special meaning, other than that they coincided. But lately, as I face an open field of the unknown with my career, soothing messages of wisdom have been dropping into my consciousness exactly when I need them, from conversations, books, even the Instagram algorithm—and they feel damn synchronistic.

I assume they seem more precise than before because of the work I’ve done on myself—like learning to meditate, listening to my body, and developing a sense of faith and trust. I didn’t even know what synchronicity was the last time I was unemployed, but now my attention to it is undivided.

One such message came from a neighbor and friend who was also recently let go from his job. We both worked remotely all through the COVID-19 pandemic, a time when many people underwent big resets in their work lives—like being laid off, quitting, or changing careers completely. He said maybe this moment is our renaissance, our time to reconnoiter and reinvigorate for whatever is next. Like me, he’s a creative and a capable professional, willing and eager to see where the wind blows him and to enjoy the nonlinear journey.

BOOM, I thought to myself as I got on with the rest of my day. This is my moment.

Another message came at 6:30am driving to the Tampa airport. My stepmom and the editor of this blog, Susan, reminded me that at 37, I’m entering my prime wage earning years. I’ll never be this young again. I should be raking it in. If I want to retire before I’m dead, I’ll have to keep pushing forward. Oh shit.

That message T-boned me in the passenger seat. Since I lost my job in June, I’ve been feeling extra exhausted by the grind culture of Los Angeles, while also missing my family. The thought of potentially returning to my hometown crossed my mind while weighing my options. I spent nearly three weeks in Tampa networking and reintroducing myself while dodging two catastrophic hurricanes, and while it was a pleasant dose of nostalgia and warm, fuzzy familiarity, I was excited to get back to my life in LA.

That conversation in the car helped me realize that I’m not ready to give up on the big bad city or on my ambitions. Sure, there’s plenty to nitpick about life here vs. life elsewhere, but between natural disasters, politics, and work opportunities, no place is perfect. LA may not be the nicest place to live, but it’s a good place to earn a lot of money.

The timing of that conversation felt pinpoint precise. More synchronicity.

Back on the West Coast, I cracked open a book that has been sitting on my nightstand for months, waiting for me to absorb its wisdom: Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. 

It’s a sort of memoir detailing her life and experience with creativity and inspiration, encouraging readers to live and create bravely, and to be in it for the love of the activity, not the rewards or the glory. 

Once again, something jumped out at me. Gilbert mentions the concept of a “shit sandwich.” In essence, anything worth doing, for fun or for money, comes with unavoidable and sometimes unpleasant catches. Things like self-promotion, a lack of privacy, frequent rejection, long hours, health hazards…etc.

It felt timely to me because, in the midst of defining my next moves, I often fantasize about getting rich off of my writing or my art. Her point is—don’t create for any payoff, do it because you love it. And for the sake of enjoying one’s creative expression—and not putting too much pressure on inspiration—keep it as a vocation and pay the bills by maintaining a day job.

It got me thinking…what flavor of shit sandwich am I most willing to consume? What do I enjoy enough to do it without much recognition or success? Do you know the answer for you?

Maybe her analogy applies to creative places. All the things I harp on about LA, like its chaos and pollution and cold indifference, may just be the shit sandwich I have to swallow in exchange for a dynamic and exciting career-building field of opportunity. The shit sandwich I gladly consume in order to feel inspired and expansive and rub shoulders with other doers, makers, dreamers, and change agents.

Once again, a light bulb flickered to life above my head.

I can’t say what will happen, but I can say that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be—evidenced by all this synchronicity. Heck, I’ve even started to notice the clock at repeating times: 2:22, 5:55, 11:11, 23:23, etc. In life, one circumstance leads to another, which leads to an epiphany, and suddenly I realize I’m tapped into something bigger and wiser than myself, assuming I slow down often enough to take notice.

I have a meeting with a career coach later today. It’s a service I stumbled across scrolling on Instagram, which normally I might be more suspicious about, but something told me to go for it—to have some faith instead of running immediately to doubt. I’m choosing to be open-minded, and to take action instead of sitting still and worrying about my job search.

I’m allowing the perfect unfolding of my life, and letting the invisible hand of universal wisdom guide me, through the moments of synchrony that seem to be popping up more and more. It’s a different way to live, one in which I feel I don’t have to know all the answers—only that I trust that everything will work out.