Yesterday I walked from Brooklyn to Manhattan via the Williamsburg Bridge and crossed several worlds.

The class was focusing on the Earth’s pulse, theorized by physician Schumann in the 50s. Schumann resonances verify the following formula (I don’t get it but I find it pretty):

                    “In an ideal cavity, the resonant frequency of the -th mode is determined by the Earth radius and the speed of light “

Earth has her own frequency of 7.83 Hz, which happens to be the same frequency as the human brain. If we synchronize with it by strengthening our electromagnetic field, synchronicity happens and things fall into places. That is very broadly summarized but I’ve always believed in that instinctively, so it resonated to hear it put into words and science.

I believe in synchronicity. How could I not? Those who know me know my propensity for coincidences and randomness. I bump into people in the streets all the time, where I live and where I visit. My presence in New York right now is due to synchronicity. I was hanging out in a pub in east London before Christmas when I felt a finger sinking into my back. It was C, one of my favorite co-workers. I exposed her all my life drama and she encouraged me to arrange working from the NYC office for some time. She gave me the guts to ask and it happened.

I got inspired by the idea of the Earth’s pulse as I feel the pulse of New York so synchronized with my own heartbeat. I bet if Earth has a pulse, her heart is right underneath Manhattan. I feel the vibrations in the soles of my shoes.

I walked out of the yoga studio and the air was smelling of spring, warm and charged with hope as if I had been here for months and a whole season had passed. As I was walking Soho streets, I crossed the path of this girl I know. She was with me and the Whores at the cabin in Illinois last fall for α³’s birthday. We played a heated croquet tournament all together. First time I was bumping into someone I know in NYC. Synchronicity stroke me again and because of the context I felt like the “queen of petrol” (doesn’t translate but I’ll keep it.)

I went back to Brooklyn and decided to walk a couple of stops to enjoy the warmth of the air. I bumped into blue-hair guy (µ) on the street for the third time in two weeks. He told me that we are obviously meant to hang out together and that I should move here. I agree.