METTA MIND JOURNAL: CYNIC’S PAUL MASVIDAL ON THE PSYCHIC BONDS THAT CONNECT US ALL
Slender Threads
Last week I was having coffee with a couple of friends in a cafe restaurant. One of my buds was sitting across from me on a large table and we were having a hard time hearing each other speak over the noise, so I began to make funny expressions and movements with my hands, embodying a style of humor that an old mate used to perform for a bunch of us when I used to work as a bartender. Back then, Jeff would pretend that he had long hair and would mime shaping it into the form of a Mohawk, or massive spikes protruding from his head. His facial expressions were serious and committed, as though it was a real job to style his invisible hair. He would look into a mirror and prepare his massive punk locks with gels and glue to form these extreme shapes poking out of his cranium. His outstretched arm would perfect the point on each spear, his facial expressions exhibiting great purpose while taking on this important task.
The music in the bar was loud and made for strained conversation, so the stunts he shared were just ridiculous enough to heighten an already stir-crazy headspace. I often found myself laughing hysterically during some of those evenings when he manifested his pre-show punk-rock character. His antics were a much-needed release from a work environment that was otherwise monotonous and uninspiring to say the least. I worked with him for about six months, and although we exchanged info when I left, we never stayed in touch. It was a brief friendship that began at work and ended there.
A couple of days ago, on my way to meet a friend for dinner, as I got out of the elevator from the parking garage, I spotted a familiar face. “Jeff!” He looked right at me, and we hugged and did a quick recap of our current lives. It was a brief minute, loving, and healthily detached. We said good-bye without exchanging contact info and without expressing the need to get back in touch again. As I walked away, I remembered that it was the same punk-rock Jeff who I had been impersonating at the coffee shop a week earlier. Curiously, he appeared right before my eyes, and although we seemed to care for each other in that moment of recognition, we said our good-byes knowing that was all that was needed. In a sprawling city of more than 4 million, I don’t take running into people I know for granted.
A few days later, I spontaneously emailed a friend I hadn’t spoken to in five years. I wrote, “Hello, we never did play that tennis match did we?” That was the last event we had planned before we stopped communicating. Surprisingly, he immediately responded with, “No way! I just thought of you when I drove past your brother’s work earlier today, amazing.”
I feel connected to a larger “gaia” grid when these seemingly random puzzle pieces align themselves as such. It’s affirming and grounding in a way that doesn’t have a logical explanation. One could say this is a form of psychic intelligence or ESP, something we all innately have at our disposal. How many times have you heard the phone ring, for example, and you knew who it was before looking at the caller ID?
Why did I take on Jeff’s character a week earlier and where did the urge come from, when I hadn’t thought of him or seen him since the time we worked together? And why did I email that old friend? These synchronous connections don’t necessarily have to be understood, but they do give life a magical, interesting quality that can appear at any moment if we can just pay attention. It’s as if we tune into each other’s energy fields…and when our paths cross again, it’s just to affirm the simple acknowledgement of being alive on Planet Earth now as fellow beings. It reminds me that we’re all in this energetic dance together, connected by slender threads, whether we realize it or not.
-PM
-PM
