“Shallow men believe in luck or in circumstance. Strong men believe in cause and effect.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson
i’ve always considered myself a realist. and by no means do i profess that in a proud way… not 100% of the time anyway.
like ralph waldo emerson implies, realists are deliberate. we’re intentional. we like to influence (read: control) what happens. we don’t believe in leaving things to chance or fate. things happen because we made them happen.
realists are pessimists. we fear the unknown. we lack romance and whimsy. we over analyze. we don’t take risks. we’re always calculating the next step and can completely miss what’s in front of us.
but recently, and mostly due to a few experiences with friends of mine, i’ve found myself questioning the idea of ‘signs’—serendipity, if you will.
someone i know has been crossing my mind a whole lot lately… as a result (i think) of ‘signs’. for example:
- frequent dreams with them in it
- seeing/hearing their name and initials everywhere
- realizing that for the last 4 years, i’ve been staring at their face 5 days out of the week but have only noticed now
- getting lost and finding myself at places i’d been with them
- …and at least 4 other (and more specific) instances that i actually can’t describe without exposing the person. ha.
for the first few weeks, i didn’t think much of it. a couple of my (female) friends were with me when these things occurred, and they insisted they were ‘signs’. (and yes, i specified the gender of my friends because i do think this is a thought process that women typically inherit over men. sorry.) my natural instinct did not follow suit—i just don’t really overthink things like this. and when i say ‘like this’, i actually just mean positive things. because i sure as hell overthink negative things. anyway, at most, i was concerned that some of these were signs to check-in on this person… just to make sure they were okay. as though these were just reminders for me to be a friend. (because we are… friends.)
as the weeks went on, i’d find myself just furiously shaking my head—as though to (literally) get out all distracting ideas that these were ‘signs’ at all. it was all coincidence. right?… right?
but it’s been months now. every. freaking. day. for MONTHS.
i’ve told myself on several occasions (and out loud) to “get it together, gemma”.
this is not like me.
this is foreign.
this is terrifying.
thankfully, this year is all about letting go of control—letting go of myself a little.
so we’ll let this play out at the pace it’s intended to. it doesn’t need to mean anything. but if it does, i don’t need to know what it means right now. shit, i’m not ready to know what it means right now.
but hey, look at me—not completely disbelieving in ‘signs’ and shit. welcome to 2017.