Observing synchronicities (or wee coincidences if you prefer) as they occur can be rewarding.
On 08/08/08, not itself a synchronicity but an auspicious number in certain cultures, I arrived back in Dinna Say just as the interminable olympic build-up was reaching its climax. The TV here was awash with New South Caledonian jingoism, as one retired NSC athlete after another revisited their own triumphs from decades ago. In desperation I reached for the nearest video tape and put it in the machine to see what was on it. Well! It was an old documentary about the plight of the 1000s of North Korean refugees living in hiding in China. This was more like it. I found out that they're in constant fear of discovery by, or betrayal to, the Chinese police. If caught, they are put on trains back to North Korea, for torture or liquidation. Riveting viewing, and a nice balance to the live TV festivities.
So I watched that instead of the PR fest in Beijing, and then we went to bed for a much shorter opening ceremony of our own. Of course next day, when I saw highlights on the news, I wished I had watched it. What an idiot!
If this post disappears, assume a loyal Chinese has complained to Blogger.
For my next synchronicity, I may need to shock you by discussing a matter not usually mentioned in polite company. In Glasgow, when I told John that my bliss partner and I maintain separate bedrooms, he said "oh, I thought M and I were the only couple who did that!" Earlier that day I had had exactly the same conversation with Sensei Larry about him and his missus. So in one day, three isolated freaks of nature had suddenly become a support group.
Now back in New South Caledonia, I was spending my first night of jet lag in the bliss partner's bed, with the headphone radio on and sleeping intermittently. I resisted all temptation to bed-dance, until about 5 am when they played a single that used to give an instant turbo boost back in the days when I jogged with the radio on. "When the feeling's right I'm gonna stay all night I'm going to run to you."
What a fortunate etc.
PS - in the interests of balance, I should add that when I had the black spot I noticed some less than encouraging synchronicities, which I have always kept to myself and anyway if I told you you'd say I was making it up.
On your indelicate subject of separate bedrooms, this has long been a practical adaptation by the upper classes. Virginia Woolf wrote an extended essay on the subject- 'A Room of One's Own'.
ReplyDeleteA personal room for each household member seems to me an entirely civilised and desirable arrangement, and should I attain middle class, high on the priority list.
Meanwhile, the actualite is that my bedroom has now become a bedsit, since the cast of Fraggle Rock occupy my two public rooms and the Big Wan's personal bedroom. The wee wan has her own room, but chooses to invade my bedspace. Someday, sometime, somewhere, I will achieve that room of my own!
On synchronicities, I believe that often these reflect the primal human urge to make sense from nonsense.
However, in your synchronous experiences, could you reflect on whether separate bedrooms correlate most closely with individual choice, or with socio-economic class?
Albert? My comment has disappeared. It might have been about wanting to sleep with crabbit old women, but I can't say for sure. Hotboy
ReplyDeleteionic - 33% middle class, 33% draft-dodging unaffiliated revolutionary, and 33% Mannheim's Freischwebende. Amazingly balanced stats.
ReplyDeletehotters - don't do it!