Synchronicity

I went to see a film at Bafta. It was so bad I left 20 minutes in. I had had a really synchronicitous night. I took the No.19 to Battersea Bridge, ran home, turned on the computer, re-arranged various bits of my writing and eventually got to bed at 4.00 a.m.
I made a free range egg white omelette and fell asleep my head stil buzzing.
Synchronicity is a wonderful thing. The meaning of synchronicity, as used by C.G.Jung, is loosely defined as a fortuitous intermeshing of events.
In the 60’s it was called serendipity.
At 4.00 a.m.in the morning it’s called bloody amazing.

When I interviewed NIGEL SMITH, he of the brilliant mind and book I THINK THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME, back on October 3rd. we connected. Me to him because of his bravery and he to me because of, well you’ll have to ask him that.
Mr.Smith had a brain lesion in 2001, every year the miracle of his recovery is celebrated by a NIGEL IS NOT DEAD PARTY. This year Jim and I were invited to the 7th Do in Hastings. Many Nigel fans chinked glasses, ate food and generally toasted the life of a wonderful man. I met his lterary agent. A very tall man called Ivan.
When the ‘oosbind and I left Ivan shook my hand and we agreed to meet up.I have been seeking out a new literary agent so that I can start writing properly again.
Two weeks ago URSULA JAMES, hypnotherapist and writer, texted me with another literary agents details. A young 28 year old Oxbridge graduate who has a book-filled room in Kensington.
I called Jonathan Conway and arranged a meeting.
Two nights ago I contacted Nigel to track down Ivan’s details. No response as Nigel is recovering in hospital with pneumonia. Get Well Soon Dude.
Yesterday I set off to the flat to collect the details of JC and then walk to Gloucester Road to see how far it was from my flat. If it’s manageable I intend to walk and take the Piccadilly line to the new studio in Leicester Square. Visiting Jonathan Conway was killing two birds with one stone as his rooms are a spit from Gloucester Road tube.
So with time to spare I left LBC got to Cromwell Road and sat in a traffic jam. Without any warning we were all re-routed by the London Bobbies because of an incident in Earls Court . I turned left, let my car guide me to a side street and before I could say pass me my A-Z there was Gloucester Road Tube.
The car did its job, I paid for parking, called Jim for the Mr. Conways address and set off to the nearest Hotel to get directions. Jim told me that JC’s agency represented Nigel Smith.
How wonderful I thought.
Gloucester Road is neon lit with swanky shops and men in leather jackets. The night was crisp and nippy. I had nothing but my mobile and a few quid so I walked briskly towards the passage of the Conway.
I could feel a swell of anxiety as the agency had no telephone details on their website and all my contact numbers were sitting on my desk in the flat. I called Jim who talked me down and got me right to the door which was opened by a smiling Johnathan Conway. He Invited me to sit down, offered me tea and told me his mum probably telephoned me at LBC; Hello Adele in Pinner.
I declined tea.
‘So you represent Nigel Smith do you?’ I asked brazenly.
‘No’. said Jonathan. ‘My partner does.’
‘And your partner is?’
‘IVAN.’
‘Your partner is Ivan.’
‘Yes, Ivan my partner represents Nigel smith.’
A pause.
A moments recognition.
‘Ivan and you are partners?’
‘Yes’ said the literary genius. ‘Ivan and I are partners.’
I breathed out.
It was a bit circuitous but I found Ivan – and the added bonus of Mr. Conway.
Could this be the beginning of something wonderful? I wondered.
Inevitably I thought, although it doesn’t really matter it’s out of my hands because that, dear friends, is what’s called synchronicity.