Everything happens for a reason, right?
Even horrible things?
The part of me that believes this is writing this article to convince that part of me that doesn’t believe this of this truth:
That everything has some grand purpose. Big things. Little things. And everything in between.
That person offering you a free cup of coffee in the subway. That dirty glare from the driver next to you at a stop light. That $100 bill you found on the sidewalk (yep, that happened to me!). That shove from a passerby that woke you out of a daydream(that one too!). None of it random. All if it a message from the Universe. Signs to remind you of the things you keep forgetting: kindness — not taking things so personally — being more present and aware — simple gratitude — and on it goes.
So many signs.
After a while, it gets tiring, doesn’t it?
I will admit, I’ve had a push-pull relationship with synchronicity.
I think most of us do to some extent.
I think we kind of need to.
If every moment meant something grand — our minds and hearts would eventually go soft — maybe even numb to the sheer magic of it all.
Autopilot is a natural human state.
Just going through the motions is the way many of us are trained to live out our days, until something shakes us up — to wake us up.
Like an accident.
Accidents are life’s way of shaking us up to wake us up.
Looking back at my life trajectory, I see that accidents were what shifted me out of autopilot mode. They often made me aware of how numb and hazy my awareness had gotten. Their lightening-like jolt suddenly made my reality shiny and new. Like changing my world from black and white to technicolor in an instant.
The word accident can be defined with and without the word tragic.
According to The Britannica Dictionary, the nitty gritty meaning of the word accident, is “an event that is not planned or intended; an event that occurs by chance.” When things happen unexpectedly the mind has no time to prepare. This seems to the Universe’s crazy sane way of shaking us up to the core — shocking us out of our autopilot mode and propelling us into the the moment where serendipity and synchronicity lie.
Not all accidents are bad.
I have had both tragic — and happy accidents in my life — perhaps you have to? I was inspired to write this article after a recent bad accident. While writing, I Googled accident quotes and found this one by Pablo Picasso.
I don’t believe in accidents. There are only encounters in history. There are no accidents. — Pablo Picasso
I was honestly focused more on the fact that a famous artist spoke these words, then the words themselves — because accidents have woken up my inner artist. Every time they happen I see the world with a new perspective — like an artist with a blank canvas. What am I ready to paint? What am I ready to paint over and start anew?
Happy Accidents
These are my favorite. Who doesn’t like a feel-good chance encounter? Sadly, in my world they happen less often than the tragic ones — though the outcome is always the same. Something good happens every time. The Universe isn’t measuring or labeling the type of accident. It is just giving us what we need to get us where we need to go. The form is appears is irrelevant. Though I beg to argue with the Universe on this point. Don’t you?
See, the thing about accidents is: if you don’t get it the first time around, you might get another accident. And not a happy one. So best to get it the first time, right?
My happy accident tale:
An example of a happy accident in my life was the unexpected entrance of a soulmate a few months after my father died. This definitely comes as first runner up to finding a hundred dollar bill on the sidewalk. That was a cool tale too — but I’ll save that for another time.
I had been grieving for months. Spring had turned to summer and I was about to turn a year wiser. A new Facebook friend sent me a happy birthday message on my wall and I curiously read his profile. He was a music teacher. How synchronous. I was looking for a piano teacher for my daughter. I immediately reached out and we setup a time to meet. When I pulled into his driveway, the first thing I noticed was a motorboat that was almost identical to the one my dad had when I was young. I immediately felt a sense of “home”. When I met him that sense of home felt stronger.
Needless to say, my daughter decided she was not interested in studying piano after that, but suggested I go on a date with him “Because, mom you like him” she said with the blunt, yet delicate honesty her pre-teen self is known for. I’m glad I listened to her and said yes when he asked me to hang out a few days later. I wasn’t looking for a partner. I had been single for quite some time and mending a pretty wounded heart. I didn’t find a music teacher — but I accidentally found love. The Universe can be so clever sometimes, can’t it?
The Not So Happy Accidents (Aka Why Did This Happen to Me?)
What of these? Why do some people experience a lot of them, while others barely have a tragic tale to tell? These answers are honestly a mystery to me. This is really between you and God. Or me and God. Or God and I. It’s a quandary really. Kind of the reason we are in the “accident” conundrum in the first place, isn’t it?
I do know that when my not-so-happy accidents hit, they wake me up — hard!
I pay attention.
I’m vigilant.
I stop dilly dallying with my decision making and get really clear about my intentions and write them down — share them with close friends — and even sing them out to the world in the form of articles!
Because I really want the Universe to know I got the message loud and clear so that it doesn’t happen again — in a much more intense way.
Trust me, I know it can.
I’ve been down that road before!
Car Accidents aren’t accidents at all…
I recently had a falling out with someone I considered a close friend. Our friendship had been on the rocks for a while. We were former lovers and I knew trying to be friends was a slippery — if not impossible slope to walk. I decided to go for a walk to clear my head. It was dark and I live in an urban setting, so I decided to drive to my old suburban neighborhood to walk. It was a mile drive. Not too far at all. It was a clear, crisp, snow-free night in Upstate New York. It seemed safe enough to go for a walk and drive. Or so I though.
I remember feeling tense on my drive. I drive like a granny. I’m always three car-lengths behind the car in front of me. I was almost at my destination and remember feeling surprised at the amount of traffic on the road as I stopped mid-lane to make a left turn onto the side street I was going to park on. I remember feeling that excitement to finally get some tension relief and walk. It had been a long day. I needed to clear my head.
Suddenly, a car that I hadn’t seen following me whammed me in the rear-end! The moment it happened I could feel my body tense into shock. “NO! Not now. Please not this!” — were the words that careening through my brain.
After it happened I paused for a brief moment then impulse turned on my flashers and pulled me over to the curb and where I started sobbing. One, then two faces appeared at my drivers side window — a man and a woman, about my age or younger. They looked kind and concerned.
Hesitantly, I got out, fearful to see the damage. My neck felt like a knife had stabbed it. I mumbled something about not needing another claim to up my car insurance premium as we walked over to my bumper to see barely a scratch. And this part amazes me! The other vehicles — and there was not one but two SUV’s, were crunched like accordions. The front of the third car the back-end of the second car looked totaled. How did mine just have minor cosmetic damage?
Maybe there was some happy to my accident.
After exchanging insurance, taking an ibuprofen (kindly given to me by one of the drivers), and guzzling some water, I got back to my plan: the walk. Yes, I’m a woman who follows through with her plans.
I realized, after about 20 minutes of solid walking and deep breathing that the shock was meant to shake this person out of my system and life. Of course he was the first one I wanted to call. I knew I couldn’t. And wouldn’t. And I wasn’t meant to. Instead I called my sister. And my brother. And I grieved the loss of him. I missed him dearly, but the Universe obviously had other plans for me. Maybe even another man for me.
Accidents don’t do all the work. They just get us greased and oiled to do the work on ourselves.
If accidents were all the Universe thought we needed to wake us up — than we’d all be awake already.
Unfortunately, they are not. They are just the igniters. They prime us for what is to come. The rest is on us.
Accidents only happen to us when we are ready. We need to trust that.
I have been reminded of this accident after accident — happy or tragic. Life only shakes us up when we are ready to be woken up.
Sometimes we don’t feel ready — I get that. As a highly sensitive person, I’m constantly doubting myself. I question myself a thousand and one times daily. And then some!
But the Universe knows. Life knows. And at this point in my trajectory, I trust it. I trust if it’s sending me a man, it’s for a reason. I trust if its telling me to let go of another man — even if I don’t feel ready, it’s for a reason. I can’t see the bigger picture. Can you?
Sometimes it feels like we are walking in a fog. And that is how life wants it to be. When we trust that the accidents in our lives are there to remind us we are on the right path — we have the tools we need to re-route ourselves and stay on said path — then that fog feels comforting!
When I can surrender to the idea that accidents are merely life’s way of telling me something needs to change — then they don’t seem scary or tragic.
I don’t believe in accidents. There are only encounters in history. There are no accidents. — Pablo Picasso
So maybe Picasso was right, there are no accidents. It is all just part of the divine plan. It is all just happening the way it is meant to happen and the meaning we give it is ours and ours alone.
I personally like giving my accidents some sort of personality. From the happy to the tragic — they are a part of my story. They help me walk through the fog with a little more gusto and a lot more purpose.
And hopefully, by the time I can see the big picture of my life, I will be fully awake — thanks to them!
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Sarah shares her story to inspire the sometimes lost, wounded, and weary souls in human bodies yearning to remember their authentic beauty. She’s a mental health coach, yogini, author, mom, former therapist & world traveler. Nature is her church, and trees are her besties. You also connect with Sarah via her website where she talks all things Highly Sensitive Person. She is the creator of the Medium publication Inner Bloom, which publishes pieces about and for HSP’s and Empaths.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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Photo credit: Vinicius Marques on Unsplash