Is Carl Jung to blame for my quandary? It is generally good to have a clear target when it comes to attributing blame but, in all honesty, I am not sure that Jung has much to do with my present workplace-washroom issue. He merely gave a name to it.
Jung defined synchronicity, or Synchronizität, as a meaningful coincidence without causal relationship. I’m not sure how meaningful my current situation is, and I am also fairly confident of its cause, nevertheless, I can’t help but consider the coincidence of my own visits to the workplace-washroom with those of a remote colleague who works on a different floor as, in some way, synchronous.
We had always been on nodding terms; little more. I know his name, but I don’t ever recall using it. The first time, I consciously noticed him in the workplace-washroom, I was already at the hand-dryers, preparing to leave, as he had just entered. We nodded to each other as our respective paths crossed.
Two hours later would find ourselves back in the exact same positions. We nod again. No names; no more.
What must be going through his mind? He would surely be thinking that I spend all my time at the hand-dryers. Would he realise that this is a simple case of full-bladder synchronicity, or would he think that I am a habitual hand-dryer lurker? Does he believe that I have spent every working-moment since our last nod at this same hand-dryer? Perhaps he imagines I am someone particularly susceptible to the cold; someone who needs the constant comforting blast of fan-assisted hot air in order to function, like some kind of cold-blooded office reptilian?
I dread my next visit to the workplace-washroom in case he is there again. Once, okay. Two times, synchronous. Three times… it doesn’t bear thinking about.
I try to break the cycle. Hang on longer than usual between washroom visits. But then perhaps he is hanging on too? I could use a different washroom, on a different floor. But then perhaps he will have the same idea?
There is no escape from the synchronicity? Curse you, Jung. Curse you.
© Simon Turner-Tree
Simon Turner-Tree sees shadows where sometimes there is only artificial luminescence.