Merriam Webster describes converge as:
1 : to tend or move toward one point or one another : come together : meet <converging paths>
2 : to come together and unite in a common interest or focus
3 : to approach a limit as the number of terms increases without limit <the series converges>
Their definition of convergence is more scientific in nature, mathematical. For me, convergence is when situations and actions all hit at the time. It could be something great, you go on vacation to a city you have never been to and run into an old friend who is doing the same thing. Your paths converged; that unlikely meeting in an unlikely place with an unlikely person.
More often, convergence is best described as the old cliché “things always happen in three’s.” Usually when you hear this, it has a negative connotation. For instance, celebrity or political deaths. Catastrophes. A hurricane hits and across the world, an earthquake shortly followed by a tsunami. It’s rare that there is any kind of connection between these things, but they become connected in the public consciousness since they all happened at the same time.
I have had a number of different convergences in my life. A little over a year ago, I had a job offer at the same time as another fortuitous event that allowed me to accomplish something that I was beginning to wonder would ever happen. It was like playing three slot machines at the same time and having them all hit big. You whoop, you holler, you thank Lady Luck and you cash in and move on.
Now, I am faced with the other kind of convergence, the bad things happening in three’s. When these things happen to you personally, you wonder what the hell you did to deserve this. Any one of these things are difficult enough on their own, but manageable. Any single one you can deal with. Each a disaster, to be sure, but nothing bigger than you have dealt with before and managed to come out OK. It’s when more than one of these happens at the same time that people lose it. You try to deal with them all at the same time, and it’s just too much. You decide to tackle each one in order of importance, in the order of greatest to least emergency. But in the back of your head, you still think about the others. The solutions you find for the immediate crisis takes away a solution to the next. You try to figure out a way to squeeze your mental, emotional and financial resources so that you can deal with the two most critical of the situations, and realize that you are now tapped out of all your resources, and you still have a third one to deal with.
This is where most people lose it. This is when people get overwhelmed. The thought that you can’t fix them all, and that they absolutely have to be fixed, causes short circuits in the brain. The train of thought runs on a circular track, and the engine is stuck on full throttle. No matter how fast you go, you still wind up exactly where you started. So you sit down, force yourself to try to think differently, separate each of the issues into their own track. Before long, you have done it. You can now think of each issue separately, except now you have three circular tracks in your head, engines running full throttle. It’s a lot to keep track of, but you manage. You focus on track number one, then switch to track number two, then three. You try to re-lay the tracks so that they don’t run in circles anymore, that they have a destination, a solution. It’s just now you realize it. You understand. While you have separated the tracks into individual issues, you see that at some point, they all intersect at the same junction. The trains race around, so fast they are hard to see, let alone manage. Three speeding blurs in your head, racing around and around.
And now all you can think of is when you played with Hot Wheels as a kid. There was an intersection on those tracks, too. And you remember the commercial that caused you to beg for that set for Christmas. And you remember that one of the main selling points was that, at some point, there would be a spectacular crash. You figuratively stare at your racing trains in your head, flinch every time one crosses the intersection, try to see where the others are, try to brace yourself for the crash you know is inevitable. Maybe if you slow this one down, then speed that one up, leave the third where it is, you can achieve some kind of synchronicity where the crash wont happen. It’s a complex problem, one that demands your full attention. You focus, you adjust, you try to manipulate. Finally, maybe, you have everything set to where the crash wont happen.
But the trains, the problems, each individual crisis is still happening. You’ve tried so hard to avoid the crash, you haven’t even noticed that the goddamn trains are running so fast that even though they won’t collide at the intersection, they are in serious danger of running off the tracks. All of your efforts to avoid a pileup hasn’t addressed the issue of the rapidly revolving trains. Worse still, you realize that any efforts to address an issue individually will alter the carefully planned schedule, and you are right back where you started.
It’s enough to cause madness, this convergence. You cross the line. You stop trying to deal with the trains. You know its going to happen. You can’t stop it. All you can do is watch in horror, waiting, preemptively mourning the loss of sanity you are powerless to prevent. You watch. You don’t do anything anymore but watch. You try to walk away, but the problems are yours, they aren’t going anywhere. You ask your friends to take a look, but they can’t see any way out of it either. They want to help, they offer to help. But they can’t. All they can do, ultimately, is watch with you. It becomes a morbid fascination, watching the racing trains. You no longer wonder how to stop it, you wonder when it will happen. You start hoping it will happen. You start hoping the disaster would just hurry up and get it over with, because you just cant watch it anymore. It’s too draining, keeping up with everything, hoping and fearing that every crossing of the intersection will end it. Feeling like it would just be easier to clean up after the train wreck than it is trying to prevent it.
And one day, trying to deal with it all, you decide to empty your head into a keyboard, and realize that you spent almost 1200 words describing what could be summed up with one simple internet derived acronym:
FML