Synchronicity: an interesting concept insofar as it doesn’t involve crystals or channeling spirits.

Today I read another post about prophecy, and it reminded me of the ex post facto meaning of Halley’s comet and the Norman Invasion. We easily and frequently impart significance to events that are merely synchronous, especially if circumstances are traumatic or bring about tremendous change.

Once I dreamed an EF5 tornado destroyed my town, and two weeks later, one did. I know that wasn’t prophecy so much as it was the timely manifestation of primitive fears legitimately held by those who live in tornado alley. But other times, I have allowed myself to ascribe meaning to events more subtle in their synchronicity, even as my rational mind comprehends the absurdity.

Recently, someone close to me brought up a rare book (by most standards) that I’m CURRENTLY reading. I’ve never verbalized my interest in this subject to anyone, ever, so his mention of it seemed significant somehow.

My grandmother has Alzheimer’s, and she’s been on my mind a lot lately. She’s a birder, or used to be, and I remember a particular species she’d point out—the Indigo Bunting. She told me that blue is nature’s rarest color. Yesterday, I saw one—a rare color in a rare location in a very unlikely season. It didn’t mean anything, but it did.

Is there therapeutic value in this tendency to construct meaning? Do you ever, with an indifference to logic, create meaning from coincidence?