Synchronicity isn’t cosmic coincidence. It’s how your story talks back to you, revealing which narrative threads are alive and which need attention.
The World as Mirror and Dialogue Partner

Synchronicity is not random. It’s not the universe winking at you from behind a cosmic curtain. It’s something stranger and more intimate: the imaginal realm breaking through the surface of everyday life, showing you where your inner narrative is trying to become real.
Carl Jung called it “meaningful coincidence,” but that undersells the experience. In narrative alchemy, synchronicity is how the story you’re living communicates with you, not in words, but in symbols, echoes, and improbable alignments. It’s the moment when your internal work manifests external confirmation, when the plot thickens without your conscious authorship.
This isn’t magical thinking. It’s recognising that you exist in a story that’s both authored by you and happening through you. The narrative has agency. It speaks.
The Practice: Kairomantic Attention
Core Practice: Treat your life as a living text where meaning reveals itself through pattern and timing.
Most people move through their days treating coincidences as noise. The alchemical practitioner knows better. When the same image appears in three different contexts—a dream, an overheard conversation, a book falling open to a specific page—you’re not experiencing random chance. You’re witnessing narrative convergence.
Robert Moss calls this kairomancy: navigation by signs and seasons of meaning. It’s not fortune-telling. It’s reading the signs of now for their navigational value. The question isn’t “What will happen?” but “What is trying to happen, and how do I need to respond?”
How to Practice Kairomantic Attention:
1. Notice without grasping
When something strikes you as odd, meaningful, or resonant, pause. Don’t immediately interpret. Just note it. Hold it lightly. See if a pattern emerges.
2. Track constellations, not isolated events
You’re wrestling with leaving a job. That afternoon, you overhear someone say, “Sometimes the door has to close before you see the window.” Later, a book falls open to a passage about necessary endings. An old friend calls about their own career transition.
Individually, these are trivial. Together? They form what James Hillman called a constellation, a meaningful pattern speaking directly to your psychological moment.
3. Ask: What wants to be noticed?
Synchronicities don’t tell you what to do. They reveal where you are, psychically and narratively. They’re mirrors reflecting your edges of growth, your unacknowledged longings, your emerging plotlines.
The Four Stages and Synchronicity
Synchronicities cluster around thresholds, exactly where the alchemical cycle operates:
Nigredo (Seeing): Synchronicities multiply when you’re in breakdown, when your old story is crumbling. They appear because the psyche is porous, the boundary between inner and outer thin. Pay attention to what repeats when everything feels chaotic.
Albedo (Cleansing): As you release old narratives, synchronicities become clarifying. They show you what’s emerging and which threads to follow. The world starts confirming your new direction before you’ve fully committed.
Citrinitas (Agency): Here, synchronicity becomes creative collaboration. You’re not just noticing patterns—you’re co-authoring them. Your attention contributes to bringing possibilities into being. This is where kairomancy becomes praxis.
Rubedo (Embodiment): Synchronicities don’t disappear, but they quiet. They become less dramatic confirmations and more like ongoing dialogue. The natural language of a life lived in alignment with Authentic Purpose.
The Ethics of Interpretation
Shadow work matters here. Synchronicity can become a trap.
Not every coincidence is synchronicity. Some are just coincidences. The difference lies in that felt sense of rightness, of fittedness that transcends probability.
Not every synchronicity requires action. Some are winks, little reminders that you’re embedded in a living world. Others are guideposts reorienting you when you’ve wandered off-path.
Take synchronicities seriously without taking them literally. When the same number appears repeatedly, you’re not receiving cosmic codes through licence plates. But you might ask: What does this number mean to me? What is trying to get my attention?
This is the crucial distinction between superstition and sovereignty. Superstition sees fixed meanings (“three ravens = death”). Synchronicity recognises fluid resonances that serve your narrative agency.
The Participatory Universe
Here’s where it gets genuinely strange: consciousness and world co-arise. Your attention doesn’t just notice patterns, in some subtle way, it helps constellate them.
This doesn’t mean you “manifest” synchronicities through positive thinking. It’s more mysterious than that. It suggests we live in what philosopher Frederic Spiegelberg called a “participatory universe,” where meaning emerges in the space between the self and the world, where the psyche is outside as well as inside.
Jung called this the unus mundus, the unified world where psyche and matter haven’t yet separated. In narrative alchemy terms: this is the imaginal realm made visible. The moment when story and substance blur, when your internal narrative and external reality reveal themselves as two views of the same unfolding.
Exercise: The Synchronicity Practice
Daily Attention Ritual (5-10 minutes)
- Evening Review: Before sleep, scan your day for three moments that felt odd, resonant, or meaningful. Don’t force interpretation.
- Journal Briefly: Write them down. No analysis yet. Just: “Three crows on the drive to work. Stranger wearing a shirt with the same symbol from my dream. “An email from X arrived exactly when I was thinking about them.”
- Weekly Pattern Recognition: Once a week, review your daily notes. Look for repeating images, themes, or symbols. Ask: “What constellation is forming? What thread wants following?”
- Monthly Integration: Choose one clear pattern from the month. Craft a one-paragraph story about it: “This month, water kept appearing, in dreams, in conversations about flow, in an unexpected flood in my office. I take this as my psyche asking me to examine where I’m resisting natural movement in my life.”
Five Prompts for Deeper Work
- Narrative Convergence: Describe a time when multiple “coincidences” aligned so precisely that you couldn’t dismiss them. What story were you living at that moment? How did these synchronicities speak to your narrative edge?
- The Repeating Symbol: What image, animal, or phrase keeps appearing in your life right now? Without consulting symbol dictionaries, what does it mean to you? What qualities might you need to embody?
- Threshold Mapping: Synchronicities cluster around beginnings, endings, and decisions. What threshold are you standing at now? What signs have appeared—even small ones—that speak to this moment?
- False Patterns: Describe a time you mistook coincidence for synchronicity, or grasped for meaning where there was none. What were you trying to avoid seeing directly? What did magical thinking protect you from facing?
- Dialogue with the Daimon: If synchronicity is how your deeper self gets your attention, what is it trying to tell you right now? Write a conversation between your conscious self and the guiding intelligence that speaks through these patterns.
The Invitation: Living the Mythic Life
To live with synchronicity is to recognise yourself as both author and character in an unfolding story. The coincidences, the timely meetings, the books falling open to the right page. These aren’t interruptions. They’re the narrative structure of a life lived in conversation with depth.
This is Joseph Campbell’s “mythic life”, but grounded in praxis, not fantasy. You’re not following a predetermined script. You’re engaged in creative collaboration between consciousness and the unconscious, between personal will and what the Romantics called your “genius”, the guiding spirit of your unique story.
The world isn’t happening to you. It’s happening with you.
Your next step: Begin the Synchronicity Practice this week. Track patterns without forcing meaning. Let the story reveal itself through repetition and resonance. Notice where your inner work starts showing up in the outer world.
And here’s the real test: Does living with attention to synchronicity make you more alive, more awake, more yourself? If yes, if noticing these threads enriches your experience and helps you navigate the mystery of being human, then that’s all the proof you need.
The universe doesn’t just happen to you. It converses with you, teasing, guiding, and reminding you that your story is both yours to write and being written through you.










