The Encounter
The Encounter
I’ve been enjoying a jog now and then, every other day or so, for many years. I love the rhythmic motion, the exertion, and the relaxation earned at the end of the line. Having been born into a soft and fragile frame, exercise seems to keep me just at par with other people as we all walk through the business of our daily lives. I’ve tried almost every available trail, and I certainly have my preferences, but as is always the case, different terrain holds different ideal conditions and Mother Nature sees fit to change things, especially around these parts, on a regular basis.
The local park has always been one of my favourite places to jog. The air is clean and clear and the dank smell of the earth fills my nostrils at each and every turn as my lungs gasp from the uphill strain and my legs pull me steadily and further up, one plodding foot after the other, all the way to the top of the ridge. Then, as I skirt along the top, running on the trail beside an abundance of old-growth trees with thick roots lying and twisting all over the ground below my feet, the motions seem more like hopscotch than jogging.
I love it. I especially love the downhill parts.
I sprained my ankle on that trail once, ruminating over a work-related point of contention instead of watching my footfalls. A preventable sprained ankle is learning the hard way, for sure. Watching for hazards is part and parcel of what’s required on that sort of trail and even a slight deviation in attention can produce immediate discomfort or unexpected pain. I’m thinking this is a lesson that can easily transfer to any situation. Attention to detail, or detailed attention, is a wise choice regardless of what you might be doing. On that day, I was simply running in circles in warm weather to lighten my load and enjoy the scenery.
I was almost finished my third circuit of the challenging trail, up, across, down, and back again, when I noticed how very light and fleet of foot I was feeling. Moving from one bounce to another was like floating through the air. Even though my time in each of these suspended leaps was less than a second, the movements felt longer, somehow prolonged. The scent of soil, the sure footfalls, the intensity of seeming to fly, all were adding up to yet another heightened experience, but I was grounded with each next step and the idea that reality might wander off at any moment was lost on me. I was in the throes of a runner’s high, a common experience for me, and that was all.
My third circuit now nearly complete, I was feeling the satisfaction of achievement and the enjoyable thoughts of new strength and endurance gained in the process, I slowed to cool off on the lowest trail in the park, adopting a brisk walk heading east toward the lodge under a thick, hardwood canopy.
As soon as I emerged from under the foliage, I quickly saw I wasn’t alone. Walking toward me on the trail was a teenaged couple, a boy-man and girl-woman, casually-dressed and moving side by side, but not quite touching. To my eye, they were unremarkable and by their demeanours, I had no sense of the nature of their togetherness. My first glance was all I needed and decorum dictated I ignore them, an uncomfortable urban habit I can only employ when necessary, but truly dislike. The easiest thing to do that day was to fulfill my obligations to good social order and so we passed each other without a word or even a simple nod.
There was a second brief glance. I hadn’t intended to look again. The event simply seemed to unfold of its own accord.
The young, dark-haired woman-girl glanced too.
In all my years experiencing the full fun of synchronicity, I’ve learned what I think amounts to a very valuable lesson. Many people speak of soul mates, in the boy-meets- girl romantic sense (and yes, I realize there are other options to mention, but doing so doesn’t always come easily to my Baby-Boomer creative flow), and this belief provides a great deal of hope in cultures that place a high value on coupling. The legends state that when you encounter such a special person, when you find your soul mate, your recognition is immediate, certain, and sometimes overpowering.
Well, I have had that very experience a number of times and with people I would not care to kiss, so my perspective on this matter has been often altered, highly honed and well-rehearsed.
In my experience, as I allow myself to consciously wander aimlessly and wait for a hunch, an impulse, a moment of piqued curiosity, when the moment happens, I always follow through to whatever conclusion seems to fit. In almost every circumstance, this go-with-the-flow engagement leads to an encounter with one or more people, sometimes friends or acquaintances, and sometimes with strangers. With strangers, the circumstances sometimes lend themselves to a meeting, sometimes not, and even when the meetings occur and include this mysterious sense of recognition, like having known all your life this stranger who is standing in front of you, the dictates of free will rule our lives.
I can’t say in good conscience that an unseen force in this universe is very busy pairing human beings. Our instincts and social customs do a good job of that all by themselves, I’m thinking. Then there’s the other consideration – one other person, one and only one, somewhere in this world and waiting for you.
Hmm… if I was a gambling man, I’d say that, even under ideal conditions (whatever that may mean), this kind of pairing is a real long-shot.
Yes, I’ve heard the rationalizations, the convenient secondary level of understanding that suggests your fated will of course be born nearby or will seemingly by chance simply show up for an unforgettable and life-altering event.
No, I’m not at all cynical about romantic love, and precisely because I am open to genuine affairs of the heart, I sometimes think about all the others. You know what I mean, the others. The ones you’ve admired, or loved, or adored? Are they somehow less important or significant because their arrival in your life didn’t include a fiery burning bush or an overwhelming wave of familiarity?
Whatever forces move us on down the line, they don’t seem to give a rat’s ass what we do after we meet. After that first encounter and after we form our first impressions, from that point forward divine intervention seems to quickly fade and we’re once again left to our own devices. So, I’ve come to the conclusion that what is required of us, in fulfilling any conscious role in the dynamics of synchronicity when other people are involved, is simple proximity.
Yeah, that’s right. Just show up. Yes, I know, there’s an obvious question: how can coming into contact without any conversation be meaningful in any way?
Well, my response to this is mostly speculation, but I do like to think my explanation is more of an educated guess than me simply pulling something out of my ass. So, I’m thinking, since our energy fields are much larger than our bodies, when we pass by one another, we do exchange something, something both unseen and unknown to us. This kind of energy, our energy, they say, holds thought - your consciousness - as inseparable. The field holds your consciousness intact and, given that respected neurologist have no idea how the brain actually and definitively gives rise to our thoughts, then this alternative theory makes sense, especially in practise. Without our conscious awareness, our various energies interact and sometimes merge, and with that merging will come change, maybe subtle, perhaps profound.
In a very real way we, you and I, are creation and, as such, we too create. We set events in motion. Do we always know all the consequences that will surely be experienced? Do we even know how many people will be affected by us uttering a single word in a given circumstance? Were you to consider the true magnitude of every choice you’ve ever made, every word you’ve spoken, or every action you’ve taken, I’d guess you’d be busy for at least the rest of this life, and perhaps beyond. Perhaps “beyond” is where we gain our complete understanding, but it seems to me our puny human brains lack the capacity to grasp infinity, or an infinite number of possible consequences, or sometimes simply how to pick up all the items on your grocery list.
I confess, I’m completely comfortable with this sort of uncertainty and, at the same time, I’m also completely convinced that every now and then, you, and I, and everyone else, has some kind of date-with-destiny all lined up and waiting to happen. More importantly, simple proximity is all that’s required. Again, all you need to do is show up. Sometimes, showing up is all that happens. Every once in a while, there’s more fun to be had, and that’s an added bonus.
I’ve come to the conclusion that an ultimate understanding of this dynamic is simply beyond my comprehension. I do, however, love to engage in the process. It’s not a board game with strict rules, but instead creativity actively expressed through billions of brilliant minds, taking strange twists and turns, keeping us on our toes, and providing us with, at the very least, amazing stories to tell.
On that fine day, just as I was cooling off from my enjoyable jog, during my brief encounter with the young couple on the path, proximity seemed to be all that mattered.
She glanced at me. I returned her brief gesture and kept on walking. No words were exchanged, no nods, just a fleeting glance and continued forward motion. There was continued forward motion, that is, to a point.
I took twenty or so paces down the path but despite the ease with which I’d traversed the trail, this walk had me suddenly feeling like I was treading water. I was gripped by a feeling I couldn’t identify and to this day cannot name. I couldn’t get a handle on the feeling, and it wouldn’t abate. I felt frozen like a fly in amber and I couldn’t decide what I needed to do, so I stopped.
Then I turned, expecting to see their backs as they walked under the lush summer leaves.
Instead I saw her, facing me, staring with a puzzled expression on her face. She had stopped, and turned, and was looking straight at me, her arms dangling, as if she too was fixed by unseen forces and had no idea what to do next.
We stood fifty or so feet apart, staring at a safe distance.
When the young man realized he was walking alone, he jogged to her and grabbed her by the wrist, tugging at her arm. She quickly turned and followed along.
I do believe we encounter people throughout the course of our lives who have a familiar feel from the first moment we meet. I do not, however, hold any stock in the idea that these sensations always mean a romantic opportunity has simply been handed to us on a platter. So, whereas I can’t guarantee there’s a soulmate out there waiting for you.
I can only guarantee that that young woman or this reporter will ever forget that moment, caught up as we were in something we simply could not fathom.
In that moment, it seems, proximity was everything.
