Sometimes the synchronicities are like dreams. If you don’t write them down immediately, they drift away. For me, that often happens after I’ve said or thought that I’m definitely not going to forget that one.
I wrote the above comment because I had just experienced that very thing. I remember clearly telling Trish about the synchro and Megan, who was visiting, heard it, too. We were all somewhat baffled and impressed at the same time by it. Then we all forgot it.
Possibly, the forgetting was related to what happened next. Megan was watching television and a character in a movie uttered this line: “Who sleeps standing up?”
That caught our attention because less than hour earlier Trish had mentioned how she had come out of the bathroom during the middle of the night and found me standing near the end of the bed facing the wall. I was sound asleep. I had no memory of that, but figured I’d gotten up shortly after Trish and realized she was in the bathroom. So, as I waited, I dozed off. Perhaps, because of my yoga and meditation practice, I’m actually able to sleep standing up.
So Megan answered the guy on TV by saying, “My dad does.”
Several days passed and as we were driving past a restaurant near our house called the Welli Deli, I suddenly remembered the initial synchronicity that set off this post. Here’s what happened.
An Australian man, who Megan had met in Orlando, texted her and told her he was in Greenwich Village with his traveling buddy and they were looking for a good bar. Megan mentioned it to me and I said: “Tell them to go to the White Horse Tavern.” It’s an historical 19th century bar with a lot of character, a place where some famous writers have hung out, including Dylan Thomas, Norman Mailer, and Anais Nin.
Megan asked where it was so I Googled the name. I was stunned to see that the first thing that came up was White Horse Tavern Wellington, FL. That’s here. But I’d never heard of it. Where was it?
I clicked onto it. That’s it in the photo above. I realized that I did know about the restaurant, but not by that name. It’s actually only about a mile from our house as the crow flies, but located on a road that we rarely turn onto, unless we’re going to one of the winter equestrian events, which we don’t do very often since Megan took her chaps and riding boots and moved to Orlando.
Megan and Trish were as surprised as I was that my search had turned up a White Horse Tavern so close to home. I never did hear whether or not the Aussies found the one on Hudson Street in NYC. Because, for some reason, we all promptly forgot about the whole thing. As if it were a dream.