RED SANDALS

Practicing Being Alert to the “Conspiracy of Improbabilities “

by Marcia Singer, MSW, CHt

I’m discovering as I get older (get old?!), that my life can be guided by the synchronicities that come with the turf. By paying close attention to the chance encounters, those elements of surprising coincidence that appear when I least expect them, I am learning to detect “messages” from Spirit about how to live my life more fully.

And with less hassle. Indeed, what the Sanscrit language reveals as “the conspiracy of improbabilities” is all the evidence I need that Something Bigger than me exists, and that I may as well lean into It as I go along my more or less merry way. More relaxed, I can then use each incidence of synchronicity to realign with my best intentions for my life, feeling into specific occasions for more specific guidance. In this way, I can keep more on track of both my dreams, and the means to help them come true.

How I came by my new pair of red sandals is one of those incidences of the conspiracy of unlikelihoods unfolding in the ordinary course of my day.

It was a Tuesday, a day free of any obligations. Following a need to get rid of some things in my home I wasn’t really using, I’d begun with closet cleaning. So many boxes with shoes I hang on to but never wear, and don’t even really remember that I own. Surely I could part with one or two pairs, at least?

Opening one of the boxes on the top shelf, I discovered a pair of comfortable sandals I had totally forgotten about. Originally summer white, I had spray painted them light gold a year later, then packed them away in winter. Sadly, having forgotten all about them, I’d purchased another pair of gold sandals just this summer. Sighing, I thought maybe I could take the old pair and dye them red; I didn’t currently own a pair of red shoes.

Anticipating my happy red sandals soon to be an easy reality, I jumped into my car and rode a few blocks away to the shoe repair man. He had several colors of red to chose from, but the cost to remove the old color and apply a new one was about fifteen dollars –more than I wanted to pay, and a little more time than I wanted to invest. Oh well. Maybe I would repeat what I did when the shoes were white: buy a can of paint, cover the soles with tape, and spray away. That would cost between three and five dollars, and probably be a bit simpler. Simple was important to me; I’d been pretty busy lately.

For another couple of weeks, the old gold sandals sat waiting in my closet. “You will soon be red,” I thought, not knowing exactly when I would do the task, but very sure I would soon have bright red shoes to put on. That certainly was my intention.

What I could not foresee was the way in which I was to have red shoes, neither the means by which nor the ease with which it would happen.

Sundays, I often facilitated sing-alongs at assisted living and senior living communities. It was just such a Sunday, a sunny summer’s late afternoon, and I realized that few blocks away one of the big department stores was having a big sale. Although I seldom go to malls any more and had nothing in particular I felt a need to buy, I simply followed a whim and an instinct and went.

Entering the store, I immediately began scanning: I wondered what I might find? I had come in near the shoe department, and quickly saw evidence that early bird shoppers had picked over all the merchandise. Shoes lay in disorder all around: what a mess. Still, something inside pulled me along the isles, looking for something attractive in my size. “Good luck,“ I thought to myself, willing to pan for gold. Or red?!

Minutes later, I was struck dumb. Miraculous, impossible, completely improbable but laying face up in an opened box was a pair of candy apple red sandals, the only pair left, exactly in my size. Even more incredible, they were exactly the same style of sandal as my old golden ones!

And they were on sale for five dollars, just the edge of what I’d envisioned paying. I rode home half stunned, humbled about what had just happened. A small, perfectly crafted miracle had just taken place in my life. Not the fact of it being about shoes, but the fact that this was so obviously not something I had orchestrated in any conscious way. Indeed, I could never have possibly come up with this solution, never in a billion years.

By the time I got home, I felt a calm peacefulness glowing in the center of my being. Surely now the inner gig was to intend even more wondrous things with more certainty they will manifest. Dream, commit, act on behalf of those dear dreams, preferences and values in all the conscious ways that I can: and then let go. Know that the Universe and I are One, and that the means for manifestation is being devised by an vast Intelligence that loves me. Little ole me.

Astonishing. And I have the red sandals to prove it and remind me every time I wear them.

It’s probably time to give the old, gold ones away. But first, I’ll take a good photo of them to help illustrate my perfect story of a perfectly wonderful demonstration of what is Possible for anyone willing to have a desire, a commitment to it, the willingness to open to miracles, and a sense of humor. Thinking back over my unconscious steps, I realized that ease and simplicity of transforming the gold to red was big on my list. How marvelous that I had so little work to do to have this success.

“I am alert to the conspiracy of improbabilities.” Thank heavens.