A part of you has grown in me. And so you see, it’s you and me together forever and never apart. Maybe in distance, but never in heart.
For the last several days I’ve had the melody to a song I’ve only heard once or twice repeating over and over in the back of my mind. I didn’t even know the lyrics, but my mind kept spinning the tune anyways. This morning when I finally got around to looking up the lyrics, I smiled from ear to ear. Because the song is perfectly suited to be the soundtrack to the past few wild weeks of my life.
And I think that’s one of the most extraordinary functions of the human brain – it thinks for us even when we’re not consciously thinking. How is this possible? Well, the scientific answer – which I’m always curious about – is that our brain is a sophisticated parallel processing system capable of intuitively assessing and reacting to data that our conscious mind is never even aware of. Tuning into and playing the running soundtrack of our lives is only a small example of our unconscious mind’s true potential.
But despite my love for science, I don’t always want or need a scientific explanation for every little thing that happens in life. When just the right thing happens at just the right moment, I simply want to believe that it was meant to be. And even when complications arise, I want to believe that these complications are necessary evils – necessary because they force us to learn, adapt and overcome. Which is, I think, a big part of why we’re here in the first place.
This afternoon I walked to a local park with my laptop to get some work done in the fresh air. But after a short time, I was distracted by a young boy entertaining himself with nothing more than a wooden stick and his imagination. And it brought me back to a simpler time. You know… that time during our youth when we weren’t scared to dream without reason. Just watching him was a soothing experience – a reminder that we, as adults, occasionally need to overcome the precincts of maturity and just let our imaginations run free. It was a healthy distraction to say the least.
Anyway, once I became conscious of the fact that I was getting no work done, I walked back home and sat down at my computer desk. And I suddenly realized the melody that had been spinning in my head like a broken record had finally ceased. Satisfied by this newfound mental silence, I got to work. But before long, the absent melody was replaced by an overbearing, mouth watering craving for chocolate cake. And the weird thing is, I usually don’t eat sweets.
After a few moments of contemplation, I decided that going to the grocery store to get a chocolate cake was a silly idea. “You can eat chocolate cake later,” I thought to myself. “But right now, you need to finish your work.” So I did just that… I got back to work.
And I had almost completely forgotten about the chocolate cake until Angel came home an hour later with a to-go box from a restaurant. She placed the to-go box on my desk and said, “Hey sweetie, my coworkers and I went out to lunch this afternoon and my eyes were bigger than my stomach. So I figured I’d bring the leftovers home for you to snack on.” I opened the lid of the to-go box to find a quarter of a turkey panini and a small slice of chocolate cake.
I laughed out loud. Certainly, there are plenty of valid explanations for this kind of synchronicity. The most basic being that when we are tuned into our feelings (a craving for example) and truly aware of our environment (actually opening the to-go box), these synchronous coincidences will seem to occur more often. But as I stated earlier, even though I am fascinated by the science, I sometimes prefer to live in a more magical, philosophical world.
So my explanation, which needs no substantiation from any source other than my own life experience, is that when people are connected, I mean truly connected both emotionally and intellectually, the melody to a common soundtrack is always playing in the back of our minds. And when we choose to listen to the music, and dance, we dance together even when we are apart.