Chapter 27 - Trust the Horizon

Coincidence Speaks

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Happy Friday friends! Welcome to Chapter 27 of Coincidence Speaks. The horizon fast approaches—only three more chapters after this one!

As always, chapters are crafted so they can be read on a standalone basis. For the full experience head this way to start at the beginning!↩️

11.11% is going exponential. I’m making way more after tithing than I was in total just six months ago. It’s like the more I give without expectation, it opens up space for more to flood in.

“Plus the extra money is all the more evidence for Clara that I’m not crazy,” he thought, closing the pages with a satisfying thwump.

Onward and inward to Chapter 27…

Chapter 27

Trust the Horizon

Paul had slowly given up on sharing the deeper parts of him with Clara. Part of him was afraid of hurting her again, of how she might react—part of him still felt angry and resentful that she didn’t seem to understand, or even fully believe him—and the deepest part of him was sad that he had to hide his true nature. 

Clara thought that because Paul had stopped talking about wanting to step back from his job—or any of the unusual phenomena he’d been experiencing for that matter—that maybe he’d finally come to his senses, having seen the light and embraced a more practical way of living.

But the truth was that he’d withdrawn his energy from where it wasn’t being accepted. He wasn’t going to convince Clara of anything through hollow words and philosophical platitudes—actions themselves would speak from here on out.

In perhaps the greatest leap of faith of all, Paul surrendered to trust that in following the deepest pull of his own soul, their relationship and their marriage would evolve however it was truly meant to.

Paul continued to keep up his daily awareness practices, receiving subtle intuitions and invaluable real world feedback loops, often around where tithing funds wanted to flow, bringing spontaneous magic to the vagaries of everyday life. In the meantime, those disconcerting inner soundforms had not made any major reappearances. And to be quite honest that was fine by him. 

Especially because this time of year in the business world was Strategic Planning Time—the official end of the fiscal third quarter, and the beginning of the fall season.

There had been a restructuring at the executive level of his company that summer, and the Board of Directors was set to host an offsite business retreat to integrate post-merger culture and set financial goals. Paul’s recent promotion also meant that he would need to take a more prominent role in the retreat.

So one Thursday just after Labor Day, the executive team and all of its key decision makers joined together to commence a financial forecasting, annual budgeting, team building extravaganza. And the gathering just so happened to be at Paul’s favorite place in the world, no less—where ocean meets sand and sky.

The crispness of early fall had birthed an immaculate day at the beach, sun hanging low in a sparkling sky. A grass volleyball area just off the sand beckoned the gathering group. Someone had brought out a big box brimming with a stacked pile of water balloons earlier, locked and loaded undulating orbs ready for action.

About twenty finance professionals of all shapes and sizes turned into a roving pack of shouting kids on the playground, lobbing water balloons back and forth at one another other within the loose confines of the grass volleyball area.

“Heck yes now this is teambuilding,” Paul grinned as the CFO spattered one into the face of the CEO from twenty feet out. Shouts and cries of gleeful water balloon vengeance permeated earth and sky.

Not long into the festivities, one of the sounds carried a markedly different pitch. A sound that would silence all others.

One of Paul’s coworkers cried out, gasping in panic, having just realized she had inadvertently thrown her priceless family heirloom ring right off her finger somewhere deep into the grass. Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing to help their anxious coworker find her lost ring. 

The business retreat turned into a true team building exercise, and they all dropped to the ground to begin sifting through the grass together. Paul laughed a little, thinking of a scene from the movie Honey I Shrunk The Kids.¹

Without any warning, an open sense of expansiveness—of impossible spaciousness and depth—suddenly fell all around. Time stood still, his spine tingled and came alive, and everything exploded into electric full color potential. Paul tuned into all of his wide open senses, gingerly feeling for cues on how to proceed.  Every synapse dilated like an electric neuronal superhighway.

There was no subtlety this time. He could feel it. 

“I am about to be shown something.”

And there could be no mistaking the inner thoughtforms landing within the sudden oceanic sense of spaciousness: he could “hear” them, vividly, and they were incredibly specific!

“Close Your Eyes,” the first thoughtform came through, with an extraordinary clarity.

“What? Now?” 

“Close Your Eyes,” the impulse repeated itself. 

“Oh good Lord no—not here. Not in front of my coworkers. Not in front of executive leadership. Please don’t make me look like an idiot. Don’t ask me to do anything weird. That’s all I ask.” ²

In this particular moment, the inner impulses didn’t suggest that Paul do anything overtly embarrassing, thank God—but the invitations continued to be remarkably specific, arriving in his brain as instantaneous fully formed phrases, as pure knowings: 

“Stand Up. Walk Forward Two Steps.”  

“Jeez—specific much? Fine. I can do that.”

He took a breath. “A nice little game of Trust Chicken. Two steps. Bring it on then.”

He cautiously obliged, standing up, eyes squinched closed—hands out to the front and side to make sure he didn’t crash into someone.

“Turn Right.”

Paul did so, about ninety degrees as best he could figure. Without eyesight, his other senses continued to open up, becoming much more acute. A wafting breeze carried a saltwater scent, telling him he was facing the ocean now.

“Five Steps Forward.”

Now he was lurching around in the midst of all his crawling coworkers like an Egyptian mummy with arms outstretched. But no one paid him any mind—everyone was laser focused on their own search.

“One, two, three, four… five. OK. Done.” 

“Down On All Fours.”

“No problem. He repositioned himself on the ground. “And thanks by the way—at least now I don’t look like such a freak.”

He took another settling breath.

“OK. Now what?”

“Feel Where You Need To Go, Then Go That Way.”

“What?”

Paul’s eyes were closed, and he didn’t feel a whole heck of a lot of anything at that particular moment, not beyond a growing uncertainty. So he just followed the first directional impulse that came through, crawling what felt like a little diagonally right for a couple of feet, towards the ocean. 

“Pause. Feel Where You Are.”

Paul paused.

He had no idea where he was—his eyes were still squeezed shut and he was crawling around like a fool trying to feel into some mystical Force, guided by inexplicably clear and adamant inner impulses no one else could hear. He sensed his coworkers murmuring and muffled in the background, he heard the crisscrossing cries of seagulls painting the sky, he felt the salt moisture hanging thick in the air and on his skin, he felt his body balancing on hands and knees and tips of fingers and toes, and now, wow—he could actually feel his center of balance, deep in the sacral area of his spine. 

“Keep Going.”  

He kept heading in the same direction, towards the ocean still—he had no idea how far—until a flash of uncertainty hit again and he stopped. “Now what?”

“Turn Left, And Back Up.” 

“Jesus Mary and Joseph—we’re just going round and round in circles! What’s the point of backtracking?” Nevertheless, he angled his body to the left, then backed up and awkwardly crawled in reverse for a few short feet. 

“OK now what?” 

“Now Feel For It.” 

Feel for it? His face turned a little to the left. He knew it was back towards the sun again because he felt its rays warming his cheeks, shining red darkness lighting up behind his eyelids. Then his eyeline angled downward slightly, towards the ground. His right hand reached down into the grass, and his sense of spatial awareness followed wherever it felt like his eyes might be aiming. They’d been completely closed for several minutes now during this ridiculous wild goose chase of an exercise in trust. Those few short minutes already felt like their own lifetime. Two lifetimes, even.

“Open Your Eyes.”

A pair of eyes slowly opened up, squinting as they followed the blurred shape of an arm down to the hand at the bottom while they readjusted to the blinding light. 

In that moment, embraced by the warm brilliance of the late afternoon sun at the beach, whether his unorthodox quest was successful or not, Paul was totally OK with whatever happened. He was just enjoying the simple beauty of the moment itself, feeling a humbled sense of quiet contentment for following the potent impulsed intuition—especially when it made little logical sense and moved him around like a flailing fool right in front of his coworkers. 

Eyes finally refocused, revealing fingers resting atop a small clump of grass. And deep at the root level, nearly blotted out by crisscrossing grassblades, a subtle glint of light peeked out back at him. His pointer finger was aimed directly at the light.

“Her RING!”

The moment the hidden jewel shined out from between the juxtaposing shadows of grass was the moment Paul knew. It was officially time. A new horizon beckoned.

The ring had been buried so deeply Paul doubted anyone would’ve ever found it with eyes wide open. He looked up to see friends and coworkers still poring through the grass all around him, focused caring individuals eager to help through their own searches. 

The catastrophic ending of Revolutionary Road suddenly flashed through his open mindspace, and he swallowed hard, thinking about the promotion and pay raise he’d just been given. The added responsibility had essentially tripled his workload, and would need to be the dominant focus in his daily life for an undefined future. 

In reverent awe, he floated over and gave the grateful owner her ring back, savoring a delicious peak moment he knew he would treasure for the rest of his life. The unfolding sequence of events leading to its revelation was a living metaphor of the pathway he’d found to connect with his own deeper essence.

Alone and alive in his hotel that night, he wrote it down in his journal:

Slow down

   Open space with the breath… 

      Be curious

         Surrender the outcome

            Trust… 

         Feel the related inner resistance...

      Allow it without needing it to change

   Follow the spontaneous inner pull

Express that new energy within daily life…

And pay attention as life creates all manner of spontaneous and inconceivable outcomes.

The rest of the business retreat blurred together, still frames of a movie reel flapping in an empty control room, audience long gone. He went through the motions as best he could, but he was detached from it all now, a ghost in the machine. Finding that ring was a tipping point, a catalyst, an encouragement—and above all, a question: 

Where did his true loyalty lie? 

Where would Paul commit the most valuable resources he had to give: his time and his energy? His attention?

The unorthodox intuitive quest, at a strategic business planning retreat of all possible places, was an undeniable personal confirmation that something was calling, something extraordinary.

“I just can’t put this much of myself into something that doesn’t stir my soul anymore,” Paul finally acknowledged to himself.

“Even if I don’t know how it will work out, it’s time for something new. Even if Clara still isn’t fully behind me.”

It was time to follow that inner compass and take a step back from the ever-burgeoning obligations of a twenty-year career.

Time to take a chance; to throw all of the pieces of his life up in the air, allowing them to fall wherever they may in full trust.

To create a space for whatever change wanted to emerge, a full transformation of the old into something brand new.

To fully honor his promise to his children and his own childhood self—the one he’d made aeons ago.

Maybe not to leave the business world forever, but for Paul, nothing brought him more alive, nothing made him feel more functional, and nothing made him feel more practical, than linking up with the mainstream flow of his soul. That core part of him that was directly connected with the essence in everything else. There was absolutely nothing like it.

Paul had made a few larger leaps of faith, and plenty of stumbles—yes, some excruciating falls too, but mostly modest daily stepping stones. Nearly two years had passed since he’d roundly beat himself up over not following what he’d thought was the explicit intuitive guidance to leave in the first place. 

“Better now than never though, hey?”

As the sun went down that evening, the timing felt perfect.

End Chapter 27

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Next Chapter➡️

Chapter 28 of Coincidence Speaks will post next Friday. Thanks for being here in interactive real time! Comments and feedback always welcome.

In gratitude,

E.T. Allen

1.

2. The real truth was that everybody around Paul was totally absorbed in their own search, and no one was paying any attention to him whatsoever. He would later come to realize that this phenomenon is actually pretty universal — that people are usually so absorbed in the constant quests of their own personal lives that they really don’t care all that much about what anyone else is doing, unless they see it as a threat. And the exact characteristics people worry might earmark them as weird or outcast are always the ones that make them exceptional…