The Magic in Creating Synchronicities
Energize your desired future idea, while respecting the autonomy of others.
Going back through the ages, way beyond the 400 years of modern science, we can find practical wisdom that helps us to adapt and flourish within the increasing intensity of life in the digital age.
Think about how to create coincidences. Certain personality variables including openness and belief facilitate psi experiences. Certain situations like transition, high emotion and need increase the likelihood of coincidences. Culling through ancient wisdom, Dean Radin reports in his book Real Magic that we need to embrace our own teleological abilities—to imagine a desired future and "let the world conspire" to make it happen. We have to be careful though. We must respect the free will and autonomy of others. For example, if the woman I love does not want to be with me but prefers to be with another man. I must not hope for the end of her new relationship. That would be attempting to subvert her will to mine. Ancient observations suggest those attempting to subvert the free will of another often have that negativity snap back at them.
Dean describes a four part synchronicity in which two people who do not know each other imagine a reciprocally desired future. They are somehow drawn to each other and fulfill their mutually desired future images.
Early in the year 2000 I was searching for office space for a research institute that a colleague, Richard Shoup, and I were establishing. We called it the Boundary Institute because its mission was to scientifically explore the boundaries between mind and matter using the disciplines of physics, mathematics, and computer science. This organization would continue a program of psi research that I had been in charge of at a Silicon Valley technology company called Interval Research Corporation, funded by Paul Allen, the co-founder of Microsoft. The “dot com” craze was at its peak at the time, with new Internet startups popping up all over Silicon Valley. As a result, office rental rates, already at astronomical levels, were continuing to rise. We looked at four potential locations and ended up rejecting the first three because they were too expensive. That left only one clear choice, in the town of Los Altos, a suburb of Silicon Valley. It was a nice space with four offices, a common area, and a conference room, and it was located in a complex with accountants, therapists, real estate agents, dentists, and so on. The plan was that I would move in first and get things set up. After moving furniture into a room that would become my office, I became curious about our neighbors. I found a directory sign listing the office suites. Most were ordinary businesses, but one was named “PsiQuest, Inc.” I thought this was a delightful coincidence, because our new institute was also a sort of Psi Quest, namely psi research of the parapsychological kind. There are only a handful of psi research facilities in the world, and we are all well aware of each other. So I was certain that the “psi” in PsiQuest must have meant “Personnel Service Investigations,” or something like that. The “psi” similarity was just an amusing synchronicity and I soon forgot about it.
About a month later, I took a new route to the office and noticed that the sign on the suite next door to ours, which I hadn’t passed before, was labeled, “PsiQuest Research Labs.” Now this was suddenly more interesting, because what in the world was “Personality Services Investigations,” as I imagined PsiQuest to be, doing with a research lab? The miniblinds on the PsiQuest Research Labs window were closed, and what little I could see through the blinds only revealed a well-appointed reception space. No one was visible. I checked every day for the next two weeks. Finally someone was in the PsiQuest Labs office. I knocked and tried the door. It was unlocked, so I entered and prepared to say hello to a man behind a desk. He looked up, his eyes widened as though he saw a ghost, and before I could say anything he managed to croak my name, “Dean Radin?” I hesitated, alarmed. “Yes,” wondering how he knew who I was, and if he was feeling okay. He didn’t reply. He just continued to stare at me. After an uncomfortable pause, I said, “I’m your neighbor, next door. I just wanted to introduce myself and see what kind of work you do here.” At length, the man replied, “I’m doing what you’re doing.” Confused, I asked, “What do you think I’m doing?” He replied, “psi research…. parapsychology.” Now it was my turn to stare, dumbfounded. Unbeknownst to me or to any of my colleagues around the world, here was another group engaged in the same kind of research as we were, and they were located next door to our new offices.
It turned out that the President of PsiQuest, Jon K., was not only thoroughly familiar with psi research, he was specifically engaging in a magical practice to manifest me! Jon was using a Tibetan Dream Yoga technique, which involves alternating three-hour periods of sleeping and waking over the course of 24 hours. During the waking periods, he was intensely wishing for a sign that his business was on the right track, and one of those signs would be for me to show up, somehow, so I could join his Board of Directors. But he had no idea where I was or how to contact me. Hardly anyone at the time knew that I was living in Silicon Valley, and even fewer knew where our new Institute was located. That’s why when I opened the door to Jon’s lab that day he was speechless. He couldn’t tell if he was awake or dreaming. From his perspective, my appearance on his doorstep was literally an act of magic based on his clear, repeated affirmations. When he finally was able to tell me what he was doing, I too felt seriously disoriented. We both had to sit down.
The month before all this unfolded, I was spending quite a bit of time visualizing what our new offices and laboratory space would look like. I was drawing sketches of my ideal lab on the whiteboard in my office and imagining a certain kind of reclining leather chair, a shielded room, and other types of equipment that would be useful to have in the lab. I know all this would be expensive, and our budget was limited, so I figured we wouldn’t be able to afford it in the short term. But that didn’t stop me from imagining what I wanted. Returning to the story, after recovering from the shock of our meeting, Jon invited me to tour the rest of his facility. As we moved from one room to the next, I could hardly believe my eyes. Jon had the reclining leather chair, the shielded chamber, and the other pieces of equipment I had been actively imagining. All of this was located on the other side of the wall from my desk, no more than 6 feet from where I had been sketching what our lab would look like. I literally drew what I wanted into being.
This was an amazing set of coincidences!
Dean's summary of what you need to do, goes something like this:
Respect the free will of the others.
Do not animate inanimate objects — like corporations.
Be careful about the impacts on others of your imagined future.
A good friend of mine writes books, many of them. He finds that his only resource is his own mind; that is how he survives. He recognizes that he must have some idea about where his current book is going but not hold that idea too rigidly. He learns to “surf” the energy that flows through him, to respond when the waves are high and stay on the beach when there is no activity. Also, if it is raining, he’s still got to hit the waves. He needs to respond nimbly to contingencies, those unexpected events that can influence his direction and energy. He needs to be able to improvise and to act as if what he is seeking to do has already happened. He does not use quantum physics or ancient wisdom to bolster his confidence or to explain his methods. How then to resolve this apparent conflict between Dean’s views and my friend’s? A matter of degree. The deeper you get into the ancient wisdom, to the depths of consciousness, the more low probability events are likely to happen. There seems to be a continuum from the individual functioning alone at his keyboard to another person navigating the complex world of people and moving things. To listen to Dean discuss these ideas, please click here.
Radin, D. (2018) Real Magic. New York, Penguin Random House