Everything that’s old is new again and the majority of popular sayings just seem to embed themselves in your memory. They silently await their chance for recognition and rear their heads at odd moments. At which times you must ponder the truth or falsity of the progenitor. It definitely illustrates something interesting about how the brain works, memory and deduction, in particular.
The saying, or adage that has been rattling around my mind lately is, “There is no such thing as coincidence.”
After many days of rumination, I realize that I am preoccupied with how much of my life is destiny versus chance. In my attempts to answer this quandary, the saying about coincidences keeps popping into my head.
I don’t believe in coincidences. It seems to me that certain events and people came into my sphere with a purpose that while not immediately clear could not simply be chalked up to fortuitousness.
Many moons ago, I was dating a guy who I thought was prime marriage material. He claimed he felt the same way about me. Unfortunately, I discovered the hard way, as many women do, that this was far from the truth.
Gliding along in relationship bliss, I had a dream that I was pregnant with a little girl. It was foggy when I woke up but the feeling of joy, certainty, love and peacefulness, remained. I went to the Dr. for confirmation and since I was only 3 weeks along, they couldn’t understand how I knew so soon. I would’ve cited the dream as proof them but I thought they might think I was a wee bit strange. Premonition? Coincidence? Spiritual connectivity? Take your pick.
I miscarried a scant two weeks later but not before my reluctant boyfriend proposed and I accepted. When I miscarried, he dumped me. The loss of the baby and the betrayal was devastating and it catapulted me straight into a deep depression. Even to think of it now, makes me sad. I was barely functional at work and spent many stolen minutes crying in the ladies room, crying on the way home and in my memory the entire time is shaded with darkness. Sometimes when a person is really far gone, they have no idea where to turn. I could not escape the feeling that I was alone, unlovable and that God was punishing me for a previous abortion.
I was on 57th St. in Colosseum Books when I met the mother of one of my childhood friends. Through her, I reconnected with my friend Pam that I had not seen in 15 years. Some connections remain, regardless of time and distance, and I was able to open up to her about my trials and she gave me the name of a therapist she had seen. Dr. Montague was a god send. She helped me in more ways than I can count. I am still counting them today.
Pam and I grew distant again after 2-3 months. In my mind, I am sure that her only purpose for coming back into my life was to allow me to make that connection. Imagine, 5 minutes earlier or later, I might not have seen her mom and missed that chain of connections that I so greatly needed.
My final example would be a friend that I made last year on-line. Social Networking and all that jazz. You meet hundreds of people and most of it means nothing.
Not this time. I laughed to find out that we had both eyed each others profiles, off and on for about a year, before we actually connected. I guess they call that drawn :). When we spoke, it was strange just how much we have in common and just how quickly we bonded. What makes it even stranger is that she lives in Africa, 7,369 miles away. You would not think to have a great deal in common with someone a continent away because of societal differences and the like and yet it is. I love her like it was simply meant to be and she has been a great source of encouragement and support to me during yet another difficult time in my life. “Damu ilipendana”. Such connections in life are rare.
My life is peppered with such incidences, the thread of which only becomes clear with introspection. I don’t believe there really is such a thing as coincidence.
Do you ever wonder about what forces in your life are at work?
Chance is perhaps the pseudonym of God when he does not wish to sign his work.