I’ve always been fascinated by synchronicity – events that have no causal relationship but seem to be meaningfully related.
Last week, a friend came over to my place to give me cooking lessons. What? Cooking lessons? At my age?!? Yep.
It has long been a source of shame and guilt that I hardly ever cook anything from scratch. I moved into my new flat in March and, until my friend visited, had used my hob and oven maybe twice. I do, however, have an extremely well-used microwave.
The idea of following a recipe, however simple, feels overwhelming to me. I believe I can’t cook, don’t cook, won’t cook.
It goes back to my childhood, when all I can remember is my mum getting impatient if I tried to help her in the kitchen. I don’t recall her teaching me how to cook anything.
And then there was the school report, the one with the worst mark I ever received – “C+ messy worker” – from my domestic science teacher.
It’s still the only mark I remember, despite the fact that I was a studious pupil who received mostly B+ and above.
The idea of cooking from scratch (i.e. not a ready meal) makes me feel inadequate – as if I can’t read. Ever the perfectionist/procrastinator, I don’t even try it in case I’m no good at it.
Anyway, back to the cooking lessons. I realised I didn’t even know how to prepare certain vegetables. Who knew you have to remove the woody bit in the middle of a parsnip?
My friend showed me how to do it and helped me to stay calm and out of overwhelm.
I realised that the fear of getting something wrong was triggering my amygdala and shutting off my rational mind so I couldn’t focus on the logical process of cooking.
His gentle encouragement and coaching helped me through and I managed – with some help – to cook citrus parsnip soup (delish) and sweet potato and chickpea curry (nice but slightly lacking in flavour even though I followed the recipe).
At one point, while standing over two simmering saucepans, I shouted “I’M COOKING!!” at the top of my voice, as if to make it real. I had to let go of the belief that I couldn’t do it.
The second event required a similar amount of letting go.
I meditate every day using an app on my phone that records my sessions. Until July 31st, I had meditated for 938 consecutive days. That’s more than two and a half years!
And then I forgot to meditate.
When I used the app on August 1st I was waiting for the usual message, telling me that I had meditated for 939 consecutive days – but it didn’t. I had missed a day.
Unbelievable. I was so annoyed with myself. How could this have happened?
After all I’d kept it going every day no matter where I was in the world for all that time – and then I forgot when I was at home and not even busy!
Then I realised it didn’t really matter. No one was keeping score except me. It wasn’t a competition. No lightning bolt would strike me down. And I still had my overall score (which is now up to 942 days).
I had to let it go.
Two synchronous events: one breakthrough, one breaking of a chain. Both concerned with letting go of limiting beliefs: I can’t cook. I can’t get it wrong. I can’t follow a recipe. I’m a messy worker. It’s my mum’s fault for not teaching me how to cook. I mustn’t miss a day of meditation on my app. I’m nearly at 1,000 consecutive days – can’t stop now. If I break the chain then what was the point of me starting in the first place?
All those unhelpful thoughts clogging up my brain. I’m exhausted just reading them.
The truth of the matter is this: I followed two recipes, cooked two dishes and they were both pretty good. That is an achievement.
I missed a day of meditating with my app. So what? It doesn’t negate the brilliant track record I had of 938 consecutive days of meditation. That is also an achievement.
So here I am, trying to make sense of it all. And yes, it is about letting go and breaking free of limiting beliefs. But here’s what I believe to be the true meaningful relationship between these events: what if they are inviting me to celebrate my achievements?
A few weeks ago, I walked barefoot across hot (900C) coals. That was an achievement. On the same day, I also walked barefoot across broken glass and broke an arrow with my neck (that’s another story…)
Oops – there goes another achievement.
OK, so I’m just not very good at celebrating my achievements.
It’s the “C+ messy worker” syndrome all over again – focusing on what I perceive I’m not very good at and skipping over what I’ve done very well.
They say synchronicity is the universe whispering in your ear. If so, thank goodness the 938 consecutive days of meditation allowed me to be quiet enough to hear what it was saying.
From now on, I intend to celebrate my achievements, however small.
An insight into my writing process
I set the intention of observing how I came up with the idea of this blog, and how I wrote it.
It took some daydreaming to bring these ideas on to the page. The cooking and the meditation had been on my mind, and I wondered if I could find a connection between them. So I flopped on to the floor, opened the French windows and pondered for a while.
Then my thoughts started to form into an idea for a blog: about the convergence of events, and what those events might mean. The piece began with this idea of convergence and told the story of the two events, trusting that the process of unwrapping my thoughts would reveal the connection.
It was clear that letting go of limiting beliefs connected both events. Then I allowed myself, while writing, to consider what might be underneath that, the deeper meaning.
That’s when I realised that it was about celebrating (or not celebrating) my achievements. I didn’t quite nail an ending first time around, so I put it to one side and came back to it later.
This time I tweaked the framing from convergence to synchronicity. That seemed to be a better fit. That helped me ‘top and tail’ the blog, starting with synchronicity and coming full circle back to it at the end.
For me, writing is a reflective process in which I allow truth to reveal itself. Eventually I tease out the gold – i.e. get to the core of what I’m trying to communicate. And that’s what my style is all about. What’s yours?
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