Fallen Behind

I've fallen sorely behind on updating this blog, due to a lack of time rather than a lack of synchronicity (of which there's been so much, in fact, that I've been spending all my computer time simply logging the activity, even just in brief/summarizing, so that I don't have time to properly document it on the blog ...).

So, for anyone who might be interested in my continued synchronistic adventures, you'll have to settle for the raw, scatter-brained log (which I do still update regularly), under the "Log" tab on the book's website: SynchronicityBook.com.

Weekly Roundup 7/13-7/20/18

The latest bunch of some select standout incidents of synchronicity I've experienced, for 7/13/18-7/20/18 (written after the fact, as it were, but better late than never ...):

Here, from 7/13, we have a highly notable example of the "reading recurrence" variant of the phenomenon, in which I somehow encounter a fully random, yet specific, thing, almost always for the first time in months or years or ever, only to have it recur soon after, as explicitly and randomly. Log entry:

[...] This one started, rather than ended, with that same magazine and that same article about the American Latinos, in which it talked about a man who, first, had become a city council member at notably young age (19), and then, second, was a minority at that (Latino), and then, third, the article also mentioned offhand how the man wanted to be president someday. Then, at lunch in the book, I came to a chapter that introduced a character that was a minority (black) who'd become a city council member at a notably young age (23) and had aspirations of becoming president someday, and was even in a club called The Future Presidents of America or something like that -- all totally objective, totally random and unconnected and unadvertised/impossible that I'd previously been cued or subconsciously informed of these things, etc, etc.

Now, from the 14th, another reading-related incident, except of a slightly different variant, this one involving the instant recurrence of something I was randomly, yet separately and independently, thinking or experiencing immediately beforehand, as to create an "echo" effect. The long-winded, scattered-brained entry:

It was a classical "page-turn"/"objective thought echoed a split second later on a previously invisible turned-to magazine page"-type one, this one starting when I had this big long random chain of thought that ended with what I might have for lunch tomorrow, thus causing me to think that I had to have that sweet potato I'd pureed for lunch due to it needing refrigeration and my having to travel tomorrow afternoon, etc, thus causing me to automatically/absently/patternistically visualize the puree in its jar, which, when I'd poured it in that morning, had sort of mounded up into a taper rather than filling the jar from side to side, due to its richness and creaminess, and also I remembered absently how brightly orange it was, coming from that particularly orange breed of potato -- and then, once again at the precise instant that this visualization unfolded in my mind and "crossed" my mind, I turned the page and was immediately struck by a big, detailed picture of a Halloween cupcake with bright-orange icing -- the *exact* same, specific, conspicuous shade of orange that my potato puree had shown in my mind, and, even more incredible, it was *mounded up atop the cupcake,* in the exact same tapered/pyramid shape that the puree had formed in the jar. And, yet again, the page had been 100% invisible to me when I'd had this thought, and with nothing foreshadowing it on the previous page/nothing even about sweet potatoes or puree or any possible subconscious cue however slight or subtle, just a perfect-yet-100%-random/object and perfectly synchronistic/intertwined echo of my exact thought more or less.

Next up, from 7/15: a similar "instant random-thought echo"-type incident, except this one recurred by way of the radio:

[...] Having a long, random, but fully objective and distinct chain of thought end with my thinking about the skin inflammation and that general hellish super-high/uncomfortable body-heat condition I was having particularly bad at the time, thus causing me to think about my dependence on air-conditioning despite my best efforts to tolerate the inflammation and react well, ending with a vague thought of something like “I'll just have to be dependant [sic] on air-conditioning until I can react better or something changes, as imperfect and unsustainable as that is” – just before “You need coolin'!” sang from the radio, and this coming in that loose, ~1-second-delay fashion but still close enough, and literally/non-contextually precise enough, not to matter

And, from 7/16, a behaviorally identical one, albeit with a surreal bilingual twist (of which I've experienced multiple times, in other incidents, as it were):

[This one happened] when I came across the sign for the Dos Amigos Mexican restaurant and registered it with an absent thought of “'amigo' is 'friend' in Spanish,” about a half-second before “a friend” came as singularly and randomly over the radio

 From the 18th: another radio/random-thought incident (this one an exceptionally good, notable example of the dozens upon dozens I've experienced over the years):

[It happened] when I was on the way to the gym and I had the thought of whether I'd be okay wearing my jeans there or if they'd require me to wear some gym-type clothes, thus causing me to automatically/absently/patternistically visualize my black jeans specifically – perfectly synchronistic with the radio randomly/singularly singing out “dark jeans,” again not only perfectly timed and patternistically consistent with the day's specific kind of these sort of echoes, but echoing the “dark” jeans specifically, not only the “jeans” sentiment but the charcoal-colored ones that I was wearing and visualizing at that precise instant, ha ha

Now, from the 19th, another echo, but of a different, even more-surreal kind, that which I've termed the "nearby-stranger" variant, in which the echo arrives by way of a nearby, unconnected person, doing or saying something that directly reflects what I was thinking or saying or doing (or, in this case, reading):

[A] fuzzy/loose/indirect/slightly delayed nearby stranger/reading echo at lunch, when a woman came to the counter just next to me and said randomly to the person there, “That peanut butter smoothie is to die for,” about .5-1 second before I came to the sentence, “The other day, I binged on spoonfuls of peanut butter,” and this one not only echoing the general “peanut butter” sentiment but also the vague additional sentiment of it being luxurious/desirous/an indulgence, also 100% consistent with so many of these that I've been seeing in this latest “chapter” of the [activity]

And, finally, from the 20th, a pair of echoes (yes, more, because I just experience that many):

[It] was a thought/event echo in the market, [when] I was called over to the next line unexpectedly by the cashier opening there, thus causing me to give this delayed/soupy/"wha?"-type response that I automatically registered as something like "dopey/odd response/you sounded weird," precisely as, upon turning to go to the register, I came face to face with a Snickers bar with "AWKWARD" written across it as some of these do [...]

[This one happened] during the afternoon drive on the highway, beginning when the radio randomly sang out about someone who "went off to fight for Uncle Sam," thus causing me to automatically/absently think "military" and "army" and related sentiment, with this coming simultaneously with my changing lanes in order to let a conspicuous tail-gating car pass -- and then, a split second after the lyric and as the military thoughts were still patternistically crossing my mind, the car passed fully and thus "revealed" an "ARMY" bumper sticker directly in the upper-right-hand corner of its rear window, such that it "struck" me/"invaded" the direct piece of space I was looking at at the time, and 100% invisible beforehand, 100% precise ...

Weekly Roundup 7/4-7/11/18

Keeping with the weekly roundup of various notable synchronicities that I started last week, here's the next installment, from 7/4-7/11/18 (yeah, I'm a few days late on this one -- a week-and-a-half roundup, then).

* * *

First off, from the 4th, an incident that is only mildly notable in itself, but is, instead, a good example of a specific, especially subtle kind I've been seeing a lot of lately: the "everyday little thing" recurrence, where I'll encounter some random, relatively common thing in a specific, patternistic fashion and timeframe. I'll often experience a dozen or more of these over the course of a day, and all with the exact same "feel" and behavior, as to be collectively notable when seen in this context.

[It began] last night in the Indian magazine when I read, again totally offhand, [an] article about “Carvel cakes,” which I again absently-but-specifically noticed, if only because it was either the first time ever or the first in a long time I'd ever encountered this – and then today, in that super-random market I'd been Compelled to go to after lunch, another where I had absolutely zero plans to be there, I happened across a cold case with Carvel cakes in it, and this happening due to a similarly random/absent wandering about in the deli/bakery area of the store, despite needing absolutely nothing along those lines from there – again fully patternistic, however “small” and common.

Next, from the 5th, a classic "radio echoing exactly what I was writing on a piece of paper, exactly as I made to write it"-type incident.

Had another of those single, stray, coherent echoes, this time a radio/”writing a note”-type one. It started when I went to write “hope” on a note I was about to leave, and then, precisely as I started the “h,” the radio randomly/singularly/patternistically sang out “I hope,” with the “hope” corresponding perfectly both with my starting the “h” and with my random/absent thought of “hope”

From the 6th, another of the many radio-echoes I've experienced, this one of a variety involving the actions of a random, totally separate person, such that the question of my own actions/psychology/biases doesn't even factor into it.

[It happened when] "out your window" [sang] from the radio precisely as I watched as, from the car directly in front of me, the driver put an arm out the window [and] tamped a cigarette, which I registered with the thought of something like "out the window," and again perfectly patternistic/precise in timing

And, from the 7th, yet another radio incident (I know, this is starting to read like last week's post -- there's just so many of these ...).

[It happened] literally immediately as I got in the car and began backing out. It started when I looked around before backing from the driveway, which I did in a weird, exaggerated way, sort of erratically swinging around in a way that surprised me, thus causing me to absently think "weird movement looking around like that/erratic looking-around" -- just before the first words over the radio sang out "look around you," less than a second later, as to not be perfectly synchronistic but to still echo the thought as it was crossing my mind, 100% patternistic of these as it were.

And ... another, the next day, and this one included because it was, more or less, exactly like the last one, right down to the type and circumstances and my actions at the time.

It happened at the exact same time, when I began backing from the driveway, this time beginning with my then being faced with deciding where to go to church since I had time to go to either one, thus causing me to think about the two and something like "got to choose now, since I'm leaving" -- precisely as "time has come to make a choice" sang randomly/singularly from the radio, with the only difference from yesterday's incident being that, first, this one was perfectly synchronistic rather than slightly delayed, and, second, the lyrics weren't quite the first over the radio, preceded by another, brief stanza.

Okay, no more radio stuff. From the 9th:

[It happened] when I got into the car after being outside in the heat and letting it idle with the A/C on, and upon getting hit with the drastically colder, contrasting air upon getting inside, I had the automatic/absent/registering thought of something like "Wow that's cold/I'm so suddenly cold" -- precisely as the very first words to come over the radio as I got in were "I feel so cold," another classical echo.

(I lied)

For the 10th: another radio-echo here, too, but only because it was the best, most "standout-ish" incident of the day.

It happened as a work truck pulling a long two-wheel trailer pulled out in front of me, first demanding my attention since I had to slow down for it, etc, and then, precisely as the truck completed its turn-out and its trailer hit a pothole, thus causing it to bounce conspicuously and thus causing me to absently/automatically register this with a thought of something like "bouncing," the ad on the radio randomly said "bouncing houses," and again such that the "bouncing" and my instantaneous, heat-of-the-moment thought coincided in that perfect, intertwined fashion, also 100% patternistic of these.

Alright, this last one, on the 11th, is another echo-type incident, but now involving a nearby stranger and the text of a book.

Towards the end of lunch, started to have a few super-super-subtle-type of those same extremely fuzzy and indirect/fleeting echoes as I've been having, and then, just before I was done, had a cool standout. It started when I randomly came to "two to two" in the book, and Noticed this in particular, patternistically and illogically and subtly but distinctly -- a split second before a man sitting nearby randomly said, "two point two," another of those with a slight delay but less than a second, just long enough for me to distinctly Notice the "two to two" and register it, then get "smacked" with the man's reasonably precise echo of the "two twos" underlying sentiment (which also jibes with the general uptick of 22s I've still been seeing off and on the last couple weeks or so, which would continue on today here and there as well).

(And, for anyone interested in the many, many other incidents not singled out in this post: read the full, unedited log of my experiences, at synchronicitybook.com.)

Weekly Roundup

Check the dates, and one will see that posts on the blog have slowed.

Why? Not for want of notable synchronicities -- not by any means. Rather, there've been too many, with every day seeing at least one or two incidents notable enough to be merit a full-length post (if not a book, or two ...).

Thus, I've found myself faced with the question of, Which to post about?!?

So, rather than type my fingers to the bone trying to detail all my synchronistic adventures, I will henceforth begin a weekly roundup of highlights (either in terms of "bigness"/profundity, or as an example of a specific, repeating type of incident). Also for reasons of time and energy and finger-health, I will simply provide a brief synopsis, then quote the verbatim log entry in lieu of a full, proper explanation.

* * *

First, a wonderfully cute, and disturbingly surreal, number-related incident from June 23rd, 2018. This one is a particularly vivid example of a certain type I've been seeing a lot of lately, where, immediately after finishing my lunch, I'll encounter the number 37 (or variations thereof) in some notable, conspicuous, and patternistic capacity. As it were, I've been having these almost daily, and nearly identical in form; but that of the 23rd took it to another level of "immediacy." Log entry:

A new record for "immediately after-lunch 37-repeat," this time a "my randomly overhearing a cashier randomly quoting a 37-figure to a customer" one, now from an employee in the kitchen saying "that'll be [something] thirty-seven" to a drive-thru customer, and this coming literally *exactly* as I finished, as in perfectly synchronsitic with my swallowing the last bite of the meal, while I was still seated, etc, ha ha.

Next up, on the 24th, a prime, illustrative example of the classical "thought echo," in which my precise, independent, in-the-moment thought is instantaneously "echoed" in some form, usually by way of the car radio or similar media:

[It happened] when I passed the cardboard dumpster and thought to get out and grab some cardboard from it to cover my food bag and stuff from the sun beating in through the car's windows, but then thought "Can't stop, no time" since I was late for church -- precisely as "I can't stop" sang randomly/singularly from the radio, a classical one in every sense.

Next, another, equally demonstrative radio echo, on the afternoon of the 25th when I randomly turned on my phone to check a web page:

It started when I turned on my phone and, after waiting the few seconds for it to start up and then entering the PIN, I went to tap the icon for the "Chrome" browser -- at the absolute, precise moment the radio randomly/singularly sang out "chrome," in the context of the actual metal rather than the browswer software but still 100% precise literally, and again so ridiculously perfect/intertwined in correlation with my moving to tap the icon and absently/reactively/automatically thinking "tap Chrome now."

Now ... another radio echo. Because, every day, I always have at least one or two (or ten). From the afternoon of the 26th, while rummaging through spice packets in the supermarket:

Another "striking one-word" radio/reading echo at the market, when I pulled up the packet of star anise and thus revealed the big "STAR ANISE" on the label, which I registered particularly because I was looking for the packets of normal anise mixed in, and so had to pay particular attention to whether it was labeled with the "star anise" or just plain "anise," as to take particular notice of the "star" as to make it stand out from the "anise" portion -- precisely as the radio sang out "stars," and this too another of those striking, flawlessly intertwined kind as opposed to the looser, "lazier," "quieter" subtles

And, heck, why not another? This one, however, is of a different, subtler sub-type, "smaller" and simpler in nature, yet no less surreal and notable for it. These, I will often experience a dozen or more times over the course of several hours. From the 27th:

[...]It started when I suddenly remembered to check the mailbox for that letter Mom had sent, thus causing me to absently/automatically think something like "Mom's mail," followed by general thoughts of her -- just before the radio randomly/singularly sang out "Your mother" [...]

Okay, time to change things up, with a lovely little text wall that contains one of the most profound (and messily described) incidents to date. This one was of a kind that I've experienced before, which I've dubbed the "affirmative," where the pattern goes as follows: after my suddenly and randomly experiencing some specific, meaningful life event that brings about personal growth or expansion in some way, I will, a very short time afterward, read something that not only directly echoes that experience, but also affirms that experience in some way, with the affirmation always arising in the most conspicuously random and fully unconnected of forms. That of the 28th, however, trumped even the most-notable of those prior (which becomes evident if you can stomach the rambling stream-of-thought account):

Next up, during lunchtime reading, came the highlight of the day, and probably the "biggest" and most singularly notable incident to date, perhaps one of the biggest ever despite its highly subjective nature. It was another of those enormous, multithreaded, multilayered/multidimensional "affirmative personal-thematic"-type of clusters that I've seen before, spanning the whole of lunchtime reading more or less, but this one excelled previous ones somewhat, due as much to its sheer complexity and precision and notability, and also in its equally notable context/circumstances and its explicit patternistic element. This one not only fit the "affirmative/randomly reading about the exact same meaningful realization I'd just had"-type of pattern, to a T, but it involved realizations that I had *this very morning,* and in no uncertain terms/nothing vague or fuzzy or indirect about it -- a direct, explicit echoing, and of multiple elements/dimensions, in the same context and terms and everything. It all started this morning when I had a big, morning-long battle with trying to silence my mind, particularly that nearly involuntary/automatic/ridiculously strong "background static" mental commentary that will jump up and vocalize/categorize/"logicalize" my thoughts and feelings and general experience, and just pretty much distort my inner reality and perceptions and wreak all manner of mental mischief if I don't keep it in check -- a constant battle always, but especially so during the intense headsickness and mental fuzziness/headfog/general inner-deadened state of this last week or so, with it all pretty much intensifying and climaxing somewhat last night and especially this morning. Then, late morning, it all sort of climaxed when I first got some good perspective/feel for the patterns of it all, then had a lucky, strong lifting of the headsickness, thus enabling me to fully silence that "inner voice/commentary" strongly enough and long enough to really contain it and thus enter into the present/the moment/return to myself somewhat -- all of this bringing about what I internally referred to as "release," specifically, and bringing with it a big rush of the general sentiment involving all the benefits of doing so and how radically it shifts perception/whole being/wellness, etc, etc, etc. In a nut: an enormously powerful experience, not a new one by any means but to a new order/level, etc, such that I carried all my observations and such about it into lunch -- and then, through the entire 1.5 hours of reading then, the book echoed *the whole of that exact experience exactly,* and right from the start of the book, the author describing how he bought an RV and went out into the desert to "silence his inner voice" and the mental/perceptual distortions it brought and so "get back into the present moment" -- and that was just the start, with the man going on to echo all sorts of specifics not only of that general subject but of the exact same observations and practices involved in some way or another in my morning-long experience, and in the exact same terms and such, such as how I'd reflected specifically this morning on how silencing the mind and getting fully into one's stillness and such is, in my personal terminology/lexicon/subjective reference, "going to Heaven" -- which the author echoed *exactly,* in the exact same context and terms both, describing the exact same practice and its disciplines as being the "gateway to Heaven," and explaining it as that exact same thing such that there was no mistaking it. And the same for the "moment of Release," his wording verbatim, which is exactly how I'd internally described my returning to the present moment upon successfully/climactically silencing my inner commentary this morning, as "release" specifically, and in that same pronoun-like sense. And such it went on for probably upwards of a *dozen* such explicit, same-term echoes regarding this general subject plus others entirely, including some vague parallels and recurrences in the mix if I remember right (and another patternistic element I've seen before with these: an absolute silence of other type of activity/incidents during the reading session, again as if intelligently orchestrated so that I could focus purely on the affirmative elements of the thematic cluster ...). And then there's the fact that I was reading this book at all, which was a random ebook I'd discovered and then bookmarked months ago, maybe upwards of a year if I remember right, and only just a few days ago dug out and decided to buy and read as my next book (this once again despite my already having bought another book to read, 100% patternistic with many of these, ha ha). And, equally: the fact that I finished the 'Martian' book last night and then Just Happened to buy, download, and beginning reading this new one today exactly, just hours after I'd had the exact experience that the book would echo in multiple ways exactly (and, of course, the book's overt blurb/description made zero mention of any of this, only describing how it was about a man's experiencing while living in the Slab City colony in the desert, making zero mention of the "stillness" or silencing the mind or any of that -- 100% objective, without the slightest question). Even now, after everything, even past such affirmative echo-clusters ... this one just stands out, nothing less than a living-dream in every way ...

Next, another exemplary case of the sub-type I refer to as the "everyday little thing" recurrence. These incidents go like this: I will encounter some specific, yet not-uncommon, thing that I've not been exposed to in some time -- be it an object, a thought, a feeling, a person, an idea, whatever -- and then, soon after, encounter it again, perhaps only vaguely or indirectly or in a different form than the original, but always the same in essence, and demonstrating the same patternistic elements (and, often, these too occurring perhaps a dozen or more times within the course of a day). On the 29th, this phenomenon manifested, initially, by way of a cartoon:

Another classical cartoon-type of "little thing" echo, today beginning when I read a random cartoon during the mornings clippings where a plumber makes an emergency house-call and charges triple the money (the first I'd encountered this not-exactly-uncommon situation/sentiment in some time, patternistically), and then, in the 'Paris' book at lunch, it mentioned this same damn exact thing to the letter, in a part about this general thing, with the exact words of "nobody ever rings these 24/7 plumbers" because they were so ridiculously expensive/known to charge exhorbitant sums, etc (this coming by way of the author describing how he'd had to call a locksmith in an emergency and ended up being charged $2,000).

Now, finally, another echo-type incident, this one, also, arriving by way of music, except now from a live, human performance rather than a recording on the radio. And, this one is from the 29th, as well, because today, the 30th, was the rare day that saw no singly notable incidents (oh, there were incidents today, just none objective and coherent enough to be described ...):

[It] happened at the farmer's market where the man was playing music for tips, and precisely as I took out the $20 to pay for the pollen, the man randomly/singularly sang out "The devil loaned me twenty bills," in the context of "twenty dollars," again perfectly synchronistic/intertwined with my finding the two ten-dollar bills in my wallet and absently registering them with the thought of "that's $20" or something to that end, perfectly patternistic. Plus, notable context: I'd meant to buy only the $10 bag of pollen, but the lady was out, thus causing me to get the $20 bag and thus pull out $20 instead of $10, ha ha.

This Is My Normal

It happened in a supermarket parking lot.

I was walking through the rows of cars, occupied with troubled thoughts of ill-health and car issues and other things rooted in the past and the future -- that is, anything but the present moment, which involved a particularly lovely Spring day that my internal conflict had blinded me to.

Realizing this, I silenced my mind and, thus, soaked in the priceless weather and its bounty, with a thought of Just live now, in the moment. Let it be.

Not two seconds later, the scrap of paper caught my eye.

It was feet away, a random piece of litter in the gutter of the sidewalk I'd just mounted, just one of the multitude cast off by folks coming and going to a busy supermarket as I was at the time. But this one in particular just Jumped Out at me, in a distinct way I've experienced many times before, yet am unable to accurately describe.

So I picked it up, finding it to be a fortune-cookie fortune -- one which echoed exactly what I'd just thought, even as the sentiment was still crossing the forefront of my mind.

(And, no, I couldn't possibly have read the fortune ahead of time and been subconsciously influenced, both due to the fact that, first, I'd begun the chain of thoughts at the other end of the parking lot, as to be totally objective and independent; and, second, the paper and its text were so small, they only became readable after I'd picked up the fortune and brought it to my face, impossible to have been readable by me even peripherally ...)

The "Nearby Stranger" Synchronicity

Imagine this, if you will:

You are in a restaurant, alone, immersed in a book as you tend your meal. Seated one table over, two fellow patrons sit in deep, passionate conversation, which you can't help but overhear as you read. Then, suddenly: you come to a random word in the text, totally at random -- at the exact moment that one of your next-door neighbors speak that same word, as randomly, yet with a perfect, seamless timing. There's no hint of complicity on the peoples' part, with the echoed word being a simple, natural part of their conversation, completely relevant to its flow and subject matter. What's more, the people are fully oblivious to you and your book; they are, in fact, both facing away from you, such that it's physically impossible for them to see what you're reading, in any case.

You blink, struck by the echo. Did you really just hear that? You give pause ... then return to your reading. Just a coincidence.

However, moments later, it happens again. Different word, but as randomly, and with that same impossibly precise timing.

Then, before you've sufficiently convinced yourself of the last one's insignificance, a third echo occurs -- and this time it's two words, and these more specific, obscure, rarer, not heard in everyday language. And with that same, synchronous overlap.

Now, take that scenario and multiply it, so that the theoretical strangers' conversation repeatedly echoes the exact words and phrases you encounter in your reading, five, six, seven times -- a dozen, and now reflecting even more nuanced qualities, such as words and objects in the exact same contexts and usage, and thematic, non-literal (but no less explicit) parallels, and profounder details still. Over the course of the couple's thirty-minute discussion, there are so many hits, and with such identical, patternistic behavior, the chances of simple coincidence grow astronomically high. With each new repetition, it gets harder and harder to reasonably consider any notion of a purely "rational" explanation.

That's the "nearby stranger" type of synchronicity I speak of, and it is one I have experienced, to date, several dozen times.

* * *

This category of the phenomenon speaks for itself, even within the scatterbrained writing of my personal incident log. So, rather than explain further, I'll let the entries doing the talking, verbatim, through several choice instances that exemplify the various intricacies and sub-types of this particular animal, taken at random from 2016:

8/24/15

"[It started with me] holding up an 'XL' tank top at the thrift store and determining that it was a child's extra-large (it was very small, no way it would fit me) precisely as a nearby stranger said to her child, 'It's for little people'"

9/14/15

"Precisely as I reached for the butter container holding my lunch, a nearby stranger said 'margarine,' in perfectly synchronistic fashion. Interestingly, I'd thought the container was for margarine instead of butter"

6/23/16

"A cool one at lunch, another of those 'nearby stranger echoing my book' ones, today a lady at the Hot Springs coffee shop saying 'old age' precisely as I read 'eighty-year-olds' in the "Sunburned Country" book -- another of those precisely imprecise ones, with the same underlying archetype of 'old,' etc, and again fitting that same pattern of the person being engaged in conversation with another stranger and being unable to even see my book, etc, etc."

6/29/16

"[...] right as I read 'cries of delight,' a random car passed with a child calling out the window, making a high, loud, cheerful noise that can only be described as a 'cry of delight.' Wow."

7/5/16

"Also, a cool and somewhat unique 'nearby strangers talking'-type one at lunch. While I was reading about general music stuff and specifically how Jerry Garcia had to be taught to play music again, two people at a nearby table were undergoing a job interview where a guy was getting a job as a musical instructor as some kind, with their conversation echoing what I was reading in the book but only in vague and subtle ways, as to only really be notable when taken into account collectively, rather than those more explicit ones like before. The most explicit/synchronous it got in this regard was when the man at the table said 'Nashville' precisely as I read 'country and western' in the book (and, it bears mentioning, the man was referring to Nashville in the same musical context as the book)."

8/31/16

"[...] And then, at Dr. Scaffidi's office, a really cool and striking one where precisely as I turned a page in a random magazine and revealed 'TRACK' written in big letters on the fresh page, Dr. Scaffidi said 'track' to his patient, when both were in the other room and entirely out of view of me, etc [...]"

11/4/16

"Precisely as I read 'See that?' in the 'Zeitoun' book, a nearby woman said 'No, haven't seen that part' -- not 100% precise literally, yet was in essence, and also sort of like that thought/reading one from yesterday with the house, in a 'question and answer' format"

And so on and so forth. Again, I'll avoid overstatement, and end the post here. Make of it what you will.

(For the curious, there's plenty more incidents where those came from, beginning before August of '16 and running right up to the present. Read 'em at the log.)

Snoopy Experiences Synchronicities, Too