Synchronicity is an important concept in C.G. Jung’s psychological approach, but one that often makes more sense intuitively than intellectually. Jung defines synchronicity as an “acausal connection” and a “meaningful coincidence”, and importantly insists that it is an empirical phenomenon, and not merely a philosophical postulate. The notion of synchronicity assumes a web of meaning that exists in the unconscious in relation to human consciousness, and it evokes those sudden, unexpected, unscripted moments when something in the world “out there” strikes a cord with something in the world “within” in ways so meaningful that we cannot help but stop, pause, and process. We have witnessed a powerful occurrence that has touched us past our usual defences and mindless state, and we know, whether we like it or not, that this occurrence speaks of something profound, something soulful. And we know it speaks directly to us, and to us alone.
Synchronicity thought of as an acausal connection challenges the conscious ego’s desire for logic, and implicitly, for control, in that the connection that we are forced to notice and acknowledge is not based on a linear cause-and-effect process, but rather is evoking and reviving unconscious, forgotten ties between symbols and archetypes that predate our so-called modern consciousness. A cause-and-effect logic helps the ego feel in control (more or less) because we can hold on to the illusion that we can influence the conditions of such a phenomenon, hence we are not helpless when faced with it – at least in theory. But an acausal logic forces us to accept that there is an intelligence beyond our conscious ego which we cannot influence because we cannot capture its bounds, its limits. We cannot delineate point A (the cause) or point B (the effect), let alone the various factors that are part of the process of moving from A to B. Our ego is faced with its own limitations, and we generally find this very uncomfortable, if not intolerable, because we suddenly feel very small, very alone, and overwhelmed.
Synchronicity thought of as a meaningful coincidence likewise challenges the ego’s illusion of mastery over our reality, but it also holds space for the awe we feel when our needs are met in unexpected, yet soothing ways. While our ego believes we live our life knowingly and make conscious choices throughout, we are effectively driven by a search for meaning, a meaning defined not by the narrow focus of the ego but by the broader wisdom of the Self. In other words, what truly drives our life is the Self’s endeavours to bring to consciousness the meaning of our mere existence, the significance of our individuality and our essential connection to the vast world around us. The ego is but a part – albeit an important part – in that dynamic of conscious recollection of meaning. The important part the ego plays consists in noticing when the subtle cues about meaning emerge from the unconscious into our consciously perceived reality – that is, the ego is key in noticing when a coincidence is indeed meaningful, and in what ways. The ego does not make synchronicity happen, but the ego is what makes us willing to be touched by the meaning unfolding, or moved by the strange, unsettling, quasi-divine occurrence it is witnessing at that moment. Often, our ego both desires an encounter with such awe-inspiring moments, yet fears what it implies: the responsibility to do something with that occurrence, to not waste the meaning offered but to humbly integrate it into consciousness. So, we easily dismiss the significance of a synchronistic event by rationalizing it, by asking for more “proofs”, by procrastinating before taking the steps it is asking us to take. We are scared, so we overlook the significance of this gift from the Psyche, from our soul.
This is when the Universe intervenes, and the Universe has a tremendous sense of humour. Our ego is stubborn, but it rarely can resist the strength of the Universe’s sense of humour. When we refuse to listen – consciously or unconsciously – to the subtle cues, and when the message is important (as it often is, since it is a matter of soulful life or soul death), the Universe has a way of throwing us into situations or encounters that shatter the ego’s pride irrevocably. No ambiguity, the lesson has to be learnt.
Sometimes, the Universe’s sense of humour is gently supportive: for instance, if we have been ruminating on an insight but trying hard to make it more complicated than it is because we are effectively afraid of enacting it, the Universe will send us the most direct one-liner that will make us smile awkwardly, being put on the spot with nowhere to hide. The one-liner may come from words on a poster in the street that jump out at us and suddenly echo what we know in an unambiguous way, or from the snippet of a random conversation we hear but which just happens to be exactly mirroring our inner childish drama so that we have to recognize how childish we are right now, or from the wind blowing in the trees and whispering “Just get on with it!” or “You know the answer, why are you still asking…?” – words we know are clearly directed to us. While we are bruised by those occurrences, we can keep a semblance of dignity by responding with a slightly cringing smile and acquiescing to the higher wisdom of the Universe which here amplifies the voice of the Self.
Other times, when we have been particularly resistant to the insights bubbling within, the Universe’s sense of humour is caustic: think of the most harrowing slap-stick comedy sketch you’ve seen, and you have an inkling of what our ego has to experience when the Universe unleashes its caustic message, with a heavy dose of irony and some inevitable smacks in the face. We do not like being the recipient of the Universe’s caustic sense of humour, although in hindsight we usually have to acknowledge it served its purpose. What makes the experience particularly disagreeable from an ego perspective is that it plays out situations that amplify our awkwardness, our capacity for ridicule in contexts we would never want to be ridiculed, a tendency for repetition ad nauseam which triggers physical as well as emotional stirrings. We curse, we cringe until our jaw hurts, we laugh somewhat acerbically – but the lesson is learnt, else we know we will just be served more of the same until it sinks in and we honour the message.
The Universe’s sense of humour is thus a gift in service of the synchronicities we tend to miss. If only we can learn to see it this way, we may be able to limit the amount of caustic experiences we have to go through, and maybe – just maybe – find life as full of mostly joyful surprises.