For those of you that really know me, I’m sure you have heard me rattle off several stories about Carl Jung’s theories on synchronicity. Although I studied theology for a short-time, I am not one that likes to identify with specific dogmas. In counseling we call this being eclectic. Borrowing theories from the Existentialists and the Behaviorists to guide our practice instead of being narrowly Psychoanalytic– is an example of the eclectic way. Some days I identify best with Judaism, but was raised a Methodist Christian. Yet, if one were to ask me what is my religion? I find myself spitting on Jungian concepts of how I view the world– and Jung, although religious (which actually created some tensions between he and Freud) was not a theologian.
Synchronicity is defined by Jung as the acausal connection of two or more psychic and physical phenomena.
I, over the past 6 years, have experienced numerous synchronicit moments. Many of which I documented through my extremely wordy Facebook posts, or in a Synchronicity Facebook group.
Yesterday I was having gut-wrenching premonitions. Silly me, I just kept feeling them and vaguely talking around them. This began when my husband and I both needed to go to town to run some errands.
“Well, why don’t I just ride with you? Aren’t you going to X? I have to go to Y, which is right beside x!” My husband just looked at me. I, on this particular day, had no desire to travel alone. Due to some trauma of my own, from years back, I am not a fan of feeling physical vulnerable. Having a visible back brace makes me noticeably physically vulnerable. This was what was subconsciously driving my request to go with him. BUT, like any married couple, this is not what I chose to communicate.
“Well, because I have a lot to do and I need to take my, old, truck and you might not be comfortable.”
“But PLEASE! For being the frugal farmer who used to cringe when I drove to town twice in one day, you aren’t being very conservative.” I somehow knew that a hit on his frugality would quickly change the tides.
“Okay go get ready!”
We started off at a parts store where my husband was purchasing a new hydraulic line and batteries for a tractor, while I, like a little kid looked for anything remotely entertaining in the mundane parts store. My eye had a keen interest in the portable LED light bars for cars, trucks and side-by-sides.
Hmm this would be great on the Malibu. I would actually be able to see at night.
**Laughs to self.**
“No, we are not getting that.” Gary chimed in. To which, I laughed.
From the parts store we ran to a gas station to get fuel. Of course, I ventured in to get a coffee (I’m a big coffee drinker). Gary and I hopped back in his Duramax and he then began telling me the rest of our errand plans.
“I’m going to drop you off…”
“No, I don’t want to be dropped off. I only need ONE THING. Please don’t leave me alone there.”
“Hunny, you will be fine. I’m going to run to X, it will take 10 minutes.”
“Gary, I’m not going in there by myself. I refuse. Please do not LEAVE me here.”
Our truck rolled up to the doors of the building. He looked at me and waited. I grabbed my purse, and slowly exited the vehicle. Within 7 minutes I probably had what I needed. When I then gazed out of my periphery into the parking lot and my heart stopped.
The very worst person that could possibly see me was now making their way into the same building as myself. I was paralyzed with fear.
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. Okay, I’ll stand here behind this, where they can’t see me, but I can see them. Once they get into this part of the building I should be able to sneak out and then wait outside. But there are giant windows everywhere. They will see me outside by myself. If I’m outside, no one is around. No one will hear me cry for help. Oh, no, they are getting closer. One, two, three…
I began walking swiftly for the exit.
“Where did you get your back brace?”
A woman jumped in front of me wanting to know where to get a good one.
Dammit lady, don't draw attention to me...or my most vulnerable area. Be gone!
“Huh, what? No..no…no…this isn’t a back brace it’s a bone growth stimulator… Erie. I gotta go!”
My heart was now pounding and it was all I could hear beating on the insides of my ear drums.
That's it, I'm walking.
I began walking as fast as I could without re-injuring my already aching back. I walked across lanes of traffic, through lawns of businesses, and occasionally peered over my shoulder to make sure that the people I were avoiding were not leaving the building by car, and coming my way. Right as I was getting closer to the business that my husband was at, I saw his truck pull out of the parking lot.
He was coming towards me, and pulling off to the side of the road.
Do not yell at him. Be calm. Do not yell.
“Bunny, I was coming to get you. You did not have to walk, what’s wrong?!”
My face said it all.
“Don’t ever do that to me again. Don’t you ever leave me, when I tell you I do not want to be left alone. They were in there.”
“Oh, no. I had no idea they would be there.”
“I did. I just knew that’s how today was going to go. I could feel it in my bones this morning.”
“I’m so sorry.”
And then I started to cry tears that had been contained for the past six years deep down inside of me somewhere. I cried and cried and looked out the window. I hid under my hat and my aviators and felt the weight of it all sink in knowing that I am still vulnerable.
“I hate feeling this scared. I hate feeling this afraid.”
The people I ran into where enablers of a man that had physically and mentally abused me 6 years ago.