Artist Letter No. 11
I Am a Clearing for Synchronicity
On noticing when life starts saying yes back
Hi there,
This morning I walked to the Post Office to mail a Father's Day card.
On my way, I passed a stoop where someone had left a small pile of things - the way people do in my neighborhood. Little gifts for passersby. Most days, I notice and keep walking.
Today, I stopped.
Two unused notebooks. And a pair of ballet shoes. Brand new.
I stood there for a moment, looking at them. Ballet shoes. On a random stoop in Hoboken. The morning I'm preparing for a workshop called Sensing Synchronicities.
I took the shoes home.
They fit.
On my way back, I ran into a friend I hadn't seen in months.
She told me about some challenges at work - circumstances she can't control, things that aren't resolving the way she wants. She said she needed a perspective shift, so she went to work out and then take a walk outside.
And then she said something that stopped me:
"Sometimes the best thing we can do is get some space, leave it be, and see what shows up instead."
I've been noticing this more and more lately.
Themes surfacing - in my work, in passing exchanges, even in stories my father shares with me over the phone.
Like him calling to tell me about buying cupcakes for my aunt's 80th birthday. How happy he was to find a lovely little package decorated with flowers and dragonflies. And when he arrived at her house - little pots of flowers with dragonfly decorations all over the front porch.
A small story. Nothing dramatic. But inside it, a tiny miracle hidden in an ordinary gesture.
He didn't use the word synchronicity. But that's what it was.
I've started to notice that the more I pay attention, the more there is to see.
Not because I'm looking harder. But because I'm softer.
There's a kind of listening that happens beneath the noise - where patterns become visible. Where an ordinary moment suddenly isn't ordinary at all.
I've been sitting with this phrase lately:
I am a clearing for synchronicity.
Not chasing it. Not forcing it. Just... making space for it to land.
And the more space I make, the more arrives.
Ballet shoes on a stoop - that fit. A friend with the exact right words. Dragonflies in two places at once.
If you've been noticing this too - the same theme circling back, a quiet sense of something lining up beneath the surface - maybe it's worth trusting that.
Not because you understand it. But because something in you recognizes it.
With love,
Kristen
The Dance Alchemist