Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 31

The rationale behind sexism

The United States Army hit its recruiting goals last year for the first time in several years, breaking a slump worrying Pentagon brass.

The reason?

Women.

Hitting the goal was achieved via an increase in women enlisting. Almost 10,000 women enlisted for active duty in 2024, up 18 percent year over year, when male recruitment increased only 8 percent.

One of the reasons for the increased female requirement is simple:

They make better choices than men.

Women account for fewer than 30 percent of juvenile arrests and are likelier to want to pursue a college degree, making them more likely to qualify for military service and be interested in the Army. They also graduate high school at a higher rate, score better on most achievement tests, and engage in career planning at a considerably higher rate than men.

This makes the average woman a more qualified and motivated candidate than the average man.

In fact, while female enlistment has grown over the past decade, male enlistments have fallen 22 percent, from 58,000 in 2013 to 45,000 last year.

When you ever wonder why sexism continues to persist in our country, you need to only look at numbers like these as an explanation:

When women consistently outperform men in key indicators of economic and occupational success, one of the easiest ways for men to continue to compete — absent hard work, better decision-making, and long-term planning — is to maintain the structures and systems designed to undermine, oppress, denigrate, and even threaten a woman’s safety in order to maintain their unfair advantage.

Sexism is a useful tool for those men who suck at life.

It’s economically advantageous to men who can’t otherwise keep up.

This doesn’t apply to all men, of course.

Many of us are not threatened by successful, high-achieving women. We are more than willing to compete on a level playing field. We believe in equal opportunity.

Let the best person win.

But small, frightened, fragile men who are unwilling or unable to compete instead rely on sexism to maintain their edge. They can afford to be lazy, ignorant, and unambitious when half of the population is kept in check through unfair, unjust, and sometimes violent means.

These men are easy to spot, typically because of how they speak to and about women. They wear their hatred, fear, and fragility like a coat of spotlights and glitter. You can spot these little monsters from a mile away.

They need to stay a mile away.

They need to go away forever.

As an elementary school teacher, I’ve spent the last 26 years primarily in the company of women. Before that, I attended an all-women college for three years.

More than half of my corporate and business clients are also women.

Having spent so much time in their company — personally and professionally — I’m convinced that the world will be a far better place when women achieve the level of success they deserve and have rightly earned.

When the playing field is even, sexists are marginalized, and opportunity abounds, women will finally achieve the kind of success we are seeing in the Army, where an increasing number of recruits are women because they set goals, work hard, avoid jail, and are making the most of their talent.

Networking need not be awful

I was playing in a cornhole tournament a few years ago with a friend. Amid our abject failure — we finished in last place — my friend found himself speaking to a couple who owned a wine distribution company. My friend was planning the construction of a commercial building to house his business, but he would likely have warehouse space to rent as well.

Three years later, that couple moved their business into his building.

Five years ago, I was scheduled to play golf with two friends when a fourth was added to the group. For nine holes, the stranger and I got to know each other, and by the end of the round, we had plans to discuss my consulting for his company.

He remains one of my clients today.

The same thing happened last year while on a plane. For three hours, my seatmate and I got to know each other, and when I returned home, I was booked to do some consulting in her company.

Last night, during intermission at a storytelling show, I was talking with a couple about my story. The man had read one of my books and knew my work well. He also works at Lego — a company I have worked with in the past. He asked about the possibility of me doing a workshop or consulting with his department, so we briefly discussed what that might look like before moving on to other things, including his wife’s life coaching business.

I’m not officially a life coach, but I seem to end up in that capacity with many of my clients. We start by talking about marketing, branding, storytelling, keynotes, and social media strategy, but soon, we’re discussing management principles, parenting, conflict resolution, dating, navigating toxic friendships, confidence, and more.

Storytelling forges strong, personal connections and quickly establishes trust between people.

She and I had much to discuss.

But they didn’t sit down with the plan of talking shop. Instead, they wanted to talk about my story, and eventually, the conversation led us to discuss work.

As a result, I may find myself back at Lego headquarters in the future, helping salespeople tell better stories.

Networking often gets a bad name, and I get it. When a person engages with another person with the sole intent of extracting value from them, networking can feel gross.

Justifiably so.

But sometimes — and possibly more often than not — networking is simply spending time with people with whom your business interests might surprisingly intersect. You have a business need, and a person who enters your orbit has a means of fulfilling that need, and eventually, those two things collide.

These serendipitous meetings need not happen on LinkedIn, at a networking event, or at a business conference. They can happen — and best happen — by simply being someone who engages with the world, tries new things, leaves the comfort of a couch and a screen behind, demonstrates curiosity in others, and welcomes adding people to your life.

At its best, networking means living.

Getting out of the house.
Meeting new people.
Asking questions.
Being curious about others for curiosity’s sake.
Seeking and finding fun.

Who knows?

The couple kicking your ass in cornhole might end up being your next great customer.

Cut from the same cloth

Pete Hegseth, President-elect Donald Trump’s pick for secretary of defense, has quite the resume.

He’s voiced strong opposition to removing the names of Confederate generals from US military bases, repeatedly saying the names should be changed back.

He’s been critical of allowing openly gay troops in the military – calling it part of a “Marxist agenda.”

He’s expressed opposition to women serving in combat roles, describing it as detrimental to military readiness.

He’s referred to the military’s characterization of climate change as a national threat “woke crap.”

During his hearing this week, he refused to acknowledge that sexual assault or domestic violence should disqualify a candidate for defense secretary.

This at least makes sense, given his history.

In 2017, Hegseth faced allegations of sexual assault and admitted to paying the woman not to file a complaint against him but maintains it was consensual sex. This came alongside a laundry list of sexual harassment complaints against him in every position he’s ever held.

However, even if the sex was consensual and absent any abuse or assault, this happened while he was married to his second wife, Samantha Deering, and two months before he had a child with his former Fox News colleague, Jennifer Rauchet, who would become his third wife.

He also led two veteran organizations into bankruptcy due to what independent accounting firms later described as “gross financial mismanagement.”

He’s also been reportedly drunk at work on multiple occasions while at several jobs, including while working for those veteran’s organizations and while at Fox News. In some accounts, he needed to be carried out of buildings and into cars by colleagues and employees after his drinking rendered him unable to walk.

In 2018, his mother wrote this to him:

“On behalf of all the women (and I know it’s many) you have abused in some way, I say … get some help and take an honest look at yourself. I have no respect for any man that belittles, lies, cheats, sleeps around and uses women for his own power and ego. You are that man (and have been for years) and as your mother, it pains me and embarrasses me to say that, but it is the sad, sad truth.”

So this guy is a scumbag of the highest order:

A sexist, bigoted, womanizing adulterer with a drinking problem who is incapable of managing organizations or people and who once paid a woman to stop her from filing sexual assault allegations against him.

In a country of 335 million people, is this really the best person we could find to run the largest organization on the planet?

An organization with more employees than any other organization ever?

An organization tasked with protecting our nation?

Seriously, is this the best American for the job?

Republican Senators think so. Thanks to their utter and complete abdication of family values, personal responsibility, and basic decency, Pete Hegseth will likely be our next defense secretary.

I’m sure Trump voters are thrilled about this turn of events.

This is likely exactly what they wanted when they voted for a convicted felon and serial adulterer who was found liable for sexual assault, paid hush money to a porn star, did nothing to stop an assault on our nation’s Capitol for hours, and has a history of bankrupting a multitude of businesses.

Pete Hegseth — in the minds of Trump voters — is on brand:

A sexist and bigot with a history of adultery, paying off women for silence, and running businesses into the ground that is eerily similar to Trump’s personal history.

Cut from the same scumbag cloth.

Precisely the kind of guy Donald Trump would want working for him.

I’m sure that, in the minds of many Trump voters, Pete Hegseth is the best man for the job.

The kind of guy they could only dream of someday hiring for their organizations.

The kind of man they would love their children — and particularly their daughters — to be working alongside someday.

A real American role model.

The wildfires of Los Angeles: Perspective and survival

On Monday, I learned that wildfires destroyed two of my clients’ homes in Los Angeles.

Another client has evacuated his home, and his family is now living at his mother’s house, uncertain if his home is still standing.

It’s unbelievable.

I think it’s easy to forget — especially living here on the East Coast — how many people are impacted by this disaster.

The city of Los Angeles has 3.9 million people, making it more populous than 15 states in our nation, including Connecticut, where I live.

If you expand that to Los Angeles County, where the wildfires are actually burning, the population increases to about 10 million, making it the most populous county in the country, surpassing all but ten states.

Only California, Texas, Florida, New York, Pennsylvania, Illinois, Ohio, Georgia, North Carolina, and Michigan have more people than Los Angeles County. Georgia, North Carolina, and Michigan each have 10 million people, making them only marginally more populous.

These fires are not impacting a small part of California or our country. They are affecting more than 3% of the US population.

Another of my clients — a brilliant and indescribably accomplished woman named Karin Knox — survived the Lahaina wildfires of 2023 and took to her Substack to advise those dealing with the Los Angeles wildfires, offering the wisdom that only comes by living through a similar disaster.

She’s permitted me to reprint the advice here.

You can subscribe to her Substack at karinknox.substack.com.

If the wildfires are impacting you, I hope you find this helpful.

If you want to help the people of Los Angeles, many charities are set up to do so. Elysha and I have donated to World Central Kitchen, which is feeding good, hot meals to the firefighters, emergency workers, and displaced people of Los Angeles.

You can donate at wck.org.

Here is Karin’s piece:

Rebuilding after the LA wildfires: lessons from Lahaina.Thoughts from a wildfire survivor on how to bounce back from devastation.Karin Knox

I’ve been gutted watching the wildfires devastate LA. It’s a situation I know all too well. My family and I survived the 2023 Lahaina wildfires, which wiped out our entire town and tragically killed 102 people — within hours and without warning. We are now 1.5 years ahead of many of you in LA and have learned things the hard way.

Below is a brief list of things to know that I have been texting to people who have lost homes and neighborhoods. I hope that some of this information helps those dealing with heartbreak and shock, and helps navigate a completely changed world:

Evacuate early. Even if you think you won’t need to, you’ll never regret leaving too soon. Get your go bag with clothes, medications, documents, photos, children’s drawings, stuffed animals, pets, laptops etc. Do not overthink it. You and your family are the most important. Stuff can be replaced.Find a safe place to stay. Stay with a friend or go to a shelter. Focus on being safe and getting your bearings before making bigger decisions. We were lucky that we had friends looking out for us when our world turned upside down.Accept help. You will have survivor guilt, possibly focusing on others instead of yourself. But you’re also a victim. People want to help, let them — whether it’s through a GoFundMe, offering clothes, finding replica stuffed animals, or searching for homes.Get the essentials. Cheap department stores are lifesavers. Focus on clothes, toiletries, and immediate necessities. You can figure out the rest later.Leverage FEMA and Red Cross support. FEMA offers limited individual assistance (usually ~$700 regardless of insurance), and they and the Red Cross will help with housing, possibly in the form of hotel rooms, after about 8+ weeks. SBA will also offer loans for rebuilding, but these take time.Secure a long-term rental ASAP. Rents will likely double or triple. Lock in a place for at least 1-2 years if you can to create a stable interim home. Consider access to schools and children’s activities if you have kids. FEMA will help with this too once the immediate danger has passed.Be cautious with insurance claims. If you have both house/rental and jewelry insurance, check your policy. Insurers may penalize you for filing multiple claims and deny coverage for additional insurance later. Our rental insurance only covered a fraction of what we lost.Take care of your mental health. The emotional toll is huge. Deep sadness comes out when you least expect it. Expect random bouts of crying and embrace it. My husband lost it in the Safeway fruit section, sobbing for 5 minutes staring at apples. Hearing us talk to our family over the phone, someone anonymously covered our coffee bill, bringing me to tears. It were these small acts of kindness from strangers that had us breaking down in tears, a lot.Seek help for yourself and your kids. Kids are resilient, but don’t forget that you’re operating at a different speed. They have less distraction than you have. Establish morning and evening routines, set up playdates, do what you can to get your kids back in school. Overload them with hugs and cuddles.Take care of your body. You might feel like you can power through, but eventually, you will hit a wall. Be kind to yourself. Walk with a friend, hit the gym, or find something that keeps you moving and clears your mind.Prepare for the long haul. Clearing debris can take 12+ months, and rebuilding even longer. In Maui, the EPA had to first assess flammables, trees and walls that might fall down, and mark toxic materials like batteries, propane tanks, and other household items. Authorities will need to search for victims and ensure that remains are treated in a dignified way. Only then will toxic items be removed, then debris. Soil needs to be dug out 6 inches deep and carried away once a site has been allocated. They will prioritize residential over commercial but it will still take many months. For us, we were only allowed back to see our old home after 4 months. It’s been 18 months since the fires, and only now are we seeing new houses being built. And this is in a much smaller area. Pace yourself, it will take years before things are back to what they are.Recover valuables safely. If you are looking for valuables among the rubble, don’t go poking into it yourself. It’s toxic and dangerous. Authorities will make full PPE available and brief you on specific risks. Groups like Samaritan’s Purse can help sift through debris safely. We found my great-grandmother’s ring and my engagement ring. Don’t give up, it’s worth a shot.Organize for your community. Our community organized donations for bikes, laptops, clothes, and more. Many companies and organizations are willing to help, just ask. Federal aid is critical in the long run, but it’s neighbors helping neighbors that truly make a difference.Be vigilant of misinformation. Misinformation will be everywhere. Protect your headspace. Stick to trusted sources and take breaks from social media if it’s overwhelming.

We in Lahaina are slowly starting to get on the other side of this. It will get better, but it is a long journey.

I believe in you. You can do this.

Karin

Cynobateria is smart

A new study published in Science found that cyanobacteria have a sense of the seasons.

Cyanobacteria produce energy from sunlight through photosynthesis, so it would make sense that adjusting to seasons with more or less sunlight could have some survival advantages. However, what makes this amazing is that a cyanobacterium lives for only five hours before it divides,

Somehow, these microscopic organisms understand the timing of the seasons even though each individual organism will only be alive during an infinitesimal fraction of a single season.

Makes my students’ complaints about memorizing their multiplication facts sound a little ridiculous.

Right?

I can’t wait to tell them.

The link between alcohol and cancer

I stopped drinking alcohol about 30 years ago. Other than the occasional champagne toast and the one time Elysha saw me drunk on a bottle of prosecco on New Year’s Eve 1999, I don’t really drink anymore.

I stopped drinking mostly because I didn’t need to drink. Lots of people drink to lower their inhibitions, help them relax, and participate in a social ritual, but I never needed any of that.

My inhibitions have always been low. Probably a little too low at times. I never required “liquid courage” to talk to a girl or ask her out, and I’ve never needed alcohol before taking the stage to tell a story or perform stand-up.

The fear of rejection or failure has never been a part of my DNA.

I’m also an exceedingly relaxed person who finds an even greater sense of relaxation in things like exercise, reading, meditation, and writing.

All are far better and more productive than a glass of wine.

And while some find it challenging to be the only person not drinking at a social gathering, I have never cared about things like that. If someone thinks poorly of me because I am not drinking, they are small, fragile, and frightened. Probably filled with hangups and social anxiety beyond my comprehension.

Their opinion means nothing to me.

The taste of alcohol has also never really appealed to me. When I was still drinking in my early twenties, I enjoyed the taste of a few mixed drinks, and champagne is fine, but beer and wine have never appealed to me.

I drank my first and last beer when I was 19 years old.

I’ve also never used an illegal drug of any kind and never used marijuana in any form.

In the minds of many, I’m quite the square.

I don’t mind, though. I’ve never felt the need to occupy an altered state. I’ve never judged anyone for drinking or using drugs, though I find the glorification of these products stupid, harmful, and weird.

But it turns out, at least according to the Surgeon General, that I made a wise choice when I stopped drinking three decades ago.

United States Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy issued an advisory last week warning Americans that alcohol consumption can increase their cancer risk and called for an updated health warning label on alcoholic beverages.

“Alcohol is a well-established, preventable cause of cancer responsible for about 100,000 cases of cancer and 20,000 cancer deaths annually in the United States – greater than the 13,500 alcohol-associated traffic crash fatalities per year in the US – yet the majority of Americans are unaware of this risk,” Murthy said in a statement.

“A lot of confusion comes from prior studies that really weren’t as robust and based on methodology that probably isn’t as accurate. Even light drinking … really, there’s no benefit, and in fact, there may be harm,” he said.

This will come as a surprise to many.

Wine has long been touted as having a positive impact on health, and perhaps it still does, though these findings suggest otherwise.

We’ve also known for a long time that alcohol is bad for the liver and kidneys. It’s harmful to developing brains. It’s addictive. It’s also been long linked to an increase in heart disease and depression.

But cancer?

That will be news to a lot of people.

I suspect that most will reject these warnings, too, just as the majority of Americans rejected the Surgeon General’s 1964 cigarette warnings for more than a decade.

It’s difficult to come to terms with the idea that something you like a lot, consume daily, rely on for relaxation, and see as ritual and tradition might ultimately kill you.

And it’s important to remember that the findings indicate alcohol increases your risk of cancer but does not necessarily cause it. An estimated 21 million Americans have died from smoking-related diseases since 1964, but we all probably know someone who smoked into old age without any apparent adverse impact.

That doesn’t mean smoking is good for you. It just means that some people get lucky.

But the good news is that these findings will likely impact the behavior of those who haven’t yet begun drinking — people like my children — who will now be better informed about the dangers before they start to drink.

Elysha and I did not drink in high school. We both consumed alcohol for the first time after graduating and moving on. We were still young and foolish, but not quite as young and foolish as many of our friends, who began drinking much earlier.

The average age of an American’s first drink is 15.7 years old. I took my first drink when I was 19.5 years old, which doesn’t sound like much later, but by then, I was living on my own, working full time, absent any safety net, and 24% older than a 15.7-year-old.

A hell of a lot more equipped to make better choices.

Perhaps this is why I don’t drink at all these days, and Elysha only drinks a glass or two of wine per month at most.

We got started late, so it never really became a thing. The luster and magic of drinking at a young age escaped us, so the fondness for drinking never took root.

Either way, based on the Surgeon General’s recent report, lucky for us.

Make it shine

Crazy fact:

All the gold ever mined from the Earth would fit into a cube with edges 22 meters long — small enough to fit into three Olympic-sized swimming pools.

This is according to the very reputable Bloomberg News.

This somehow sounds like an enormous amount of gold and a tiny bit of gold simultaneously.

Enormous in terms of sheer amount. Tiny when measured over the course of history.

Also:

Over half the gold ever mined has been extracted from the Earth in the last 50 years.

This also shocks me. Although gold has been valued for thousands of years, most of it has remained inside the Earth until recently.

Gold is an interesting element and was chosen as currency and a container for wealth for good reasons:

Gold does not dissipate into the atmosphere. It does not burst into flames. It does not poison or irradiate the holder. It is rare enough to make it difficult to overproduce but malleable enough to mint into coins, bars, and bricks.

It’s also an attractive element. With very little effort, it can be made to shine.

Gold is a lot like stories. It takes little effort to turn a poorly told story into something genuinely entertaining.

With very little effort and just a few well-placed strategies, a story can be made to shine, too.

Unlike gold, the number of stories to be told is nearly endless when you know how and where to find them. Unfortunately, most people think great stories are as rare as gold:

Hard to find. Few in number. Precious in nature.

They may be precious in terms of their power to entertain, connect, and convince others, but happily, you have more than you could ever need if you can see, find, and hold onto them.

If you’re not familiar with Homework for Life, check it out here so you, too, can start to see stories as much less rare than most people think.

Why I love my students so much

One of my clients sent me a fascinating survey called the Culture Index Report. Answer a billion questions, and the results are remarkable. Not only did this survey accurately describe me, honing in on the things most pertinent to me, but it also suggests how I can better negotiate the world and tell others how to best work with me.

If I were dating again, I would hand the survey results over on the first date and say, “Here. This is me. What do you think?”

It’s that accurate.

Elysha also took the survey, and her results were, similarly, eerily descriptive.

Amongst the many surprising revelations in the survey was this:

I am constantly adjusting my behavior between my work and personal life to a degree I never would’ve expected.

This surprised me. If you asked my colleagues, I suspect they would say I don’t adjust my workplace behavior enough. In their minds and mine, I am very much myself at work, which can occasionally cause friction, angst, and even discord.

I speak my mind, disregard authority when it strikes me as inane or shortsighted, and plow through the workday being me, which is appreciated by many but certainly not all.

I have unfortunate, objective, overwhelming evidence of this fact.

However, as much as that may be true, my colleagues still do not get a full measure of who I am, at least according to this survey. Though it indicates I behave like my true self at work more than most people, I am still adjusting to a degree I never would’ve predicted.

But I guess it’s true. When I reflected on my 26 years of teaching, I was quickly able to identify moments when I adjusted my behavior to meet the needs and expectations of the workplace, either because I saw the need and opted to adjust or, in many cases, the need was pointed out to me.

Years ago, a teacher went to my principal with a complaint about me. When he brought it to my attention, I replied — perhaps more heated than necessary:

“Why didn’t she just tell me? What the hell is wrong with her? It’s like I feel like I’m playing some ass-backward game of telephone with a child. Grown-ass adults don’t play games like this.”

His response:

“Maybe she came to me because she thought you might respond like this.”

I was still annoyed. I still thought it was stupid and cowardly not to speak directly to me. Years later, I still think it was stupid and cowardly not to speak to me directly. But I took his point.

I can be difficult to deal with in a verbal confrontation. People avoid arguing with me whenever possible. I’m not gentle.

Some I adjusted.

I can think of a lot of moments like that.

But here’s why I’m surprised:

If I had answered the jobs behavior survey thinking only about the time I spend with my students — the vast majority of my workday —  I suspect the results would be strikingly similar to the survey of my personal life.

Adults demand greater adjustment from me, whereas kids tend to like me just the way I am.

It may seem fairly obvious, but this was a real epiphany for me — a massive, sense-making realization:

Alongside family and closest friends, my students know me best. I get to be myself in their presence. I remove all filters while teaching and am the closest version of the real me I can possibly be while spending time with them. The person inside the classroom with my fifth graders is slightly different than the one who exits the classroom door and walks down the hallway to a meeting.

I’m certainly still myself in the presence of adults, but it’s a slightly muted version of me. A more accommodating, more malleable version of myself. More conforming. Slightly less authentic.

It’s not a lot, but now that it’s been pointed out to me via this survey, it’s clear as day.

I’m slightly more measured and calculating in the company of my colleagues. Less sarcastic. Less inclined to be amusing. Less silly. A little less joyous and playful.

But my students get the concentrated version of me. They get all of that and more.

No wonder why leaving teaching often feels so impossible.

I’ll be forced to leave my people. My little people.

The people who know me best.

The people who I like best.

The machines are coming for us

Elysha received an Ember mug for Christmas.

An Ember mug is a temperature-controlled, battery-powered mug designed to keep your beverage at your preferred temperature for an extended period.

Charlie spotted it charging on the counter yesterday.

“So now our mugs are electronic?” he said, sounding outraged. “Really? First the internet, and then AI, and now the mugs? The machines are taking over. We’re doomed!”

He started walking up the stairs when I said, “What about that 3D printer in your room? What about that machine?”

He paused near the stop of the stairs, thought for a minute, then said, “Fair,” before disappearing into his room, apparently accepting his machine-dominated future for the sake of printing plastic trees for his train set.

This is how they get us. One plastic tree at a time.

Coincidentalism: Want to join?

Looking for something new to embrace in 2025?

How about this?

On December 23, 1988, I was in a head-on collision in my mother’s 1976 Datsun B-210. I was driving through Mendon, Massachusetts, on a snowy afternoon when my car slid into the opposite lane and met a Mercedes Benz head-on halfway down a hill.

I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt at the time, even though I always wore my seatbelt. As a result, I was severely injured in the accident. My head went through the windshield, and my legs became embedded in the air conditioning unit. I stopped breathing, and my heart stopped beating for about a minute in the back of an ambulance before paramedics used CPR to restore my life. My legs required multiple surgeries. There is still glass in my forehead to this day.

Thirty years later, I told this story as part of a talk for a large healthcare provider in Cambridge, Massachusetts. When I finished speaking, I sat down beside the company’s CEO. He grabbed my forearm and pulled me close.

“You’re not going to believe this,” he said. “I was in a car accident that day, too. Same snowstorm. Also while driving a Datsun B-210. I slid through an intersection that night in Roxbury, and a snowplow tore the back half of the car right off.”

Same day. Same storm. Same make and model of car.

Incredible coincidence. Right?

Ten years ago, I was standing in a hot dog line on Father’s Day at a minor league baseball game, emailing a YMCA director at a camp 90 miles north, hoping to plan the annual fifth-grade trip to the camp that fall.

A life-changing adventure for children that lazy, ineffective adults ended because it was easier for them if the trip did not exist.

The man who I was emailing, whose name is Pat, had uncharacteristically not responded to my last three emails. With time to kill while waiting for my hot dog, I decided to send another email.

I opened the email app, opened a new email, and typed Pat’s name in the address field. Then I looked up. Pat was standing in front of me. He was wearing a minor league baseball uniform, leading the people dressed up as catsup, mustard, and relish through the concourse, cutting the line directly in front of me.

Pat had quit his job at the YMCA camp and was now the Rock Cats entertainment director.

I began to email a man I barely knew, and at that very moment, he appeared before me. At a baseball game. In a hot dog line.

Incredible coincidence. Right?

A few years ago, Elysha and I walked into a bookstore to find an author lecturing about storytelling and memoir to an audience of a couple dozen readers. Almost immediately, Elysha (then I) realized that the author was teaching my strategies and my trademarked method — Homework for Life — and claiming them as her own. She eventually spotted me browsing the stacks, faltered, and finally felt compelled to introduce me to her audience, admitting that much of what she was teaching had actually come from me.

Imagine how that woman felt when she saw me walk into the store at the very moment she was stealing my content.

Quite a coincidence for both of us.

Knowing that I struggle with faith, and knowing that I would like to believe in a benevolent God and an afterlife, and knowing that I refer to myself as a reluctant atheist, many people over the years have tried to help me find some faith in a greater power.

A family of Jehovah’s Witnesses who took me off the street when I was homeless tried to gently nudge me in the direction of the Lord through stories and prayer.

Readers have written hundreds of emails and Facebook messages over the years, desperately trying to save my soul.

Rabbis have tried to convince me that I can believe in God while still questioning the nature of the Lord’s existence.

Many of these attempts have used coincidences like the ones I’ve described as proof that God exists. When these remarkable, seemingly impossible moments of serendipity occur, how could one not think God had a hand in their making?

A rabbi once called these moments “a wink from God.”

Admittedly, the world is filled with extraordinary coincidences beyond my own.

Stephen Hawking shares his birth and death dates with Galileo and Einstein.

Sailor Richard Parker was cannibalized by his shipmates—just like Edgar Allen Poe’s character of the same name was cannibalized by shipmates in a story published 46 years earlier.

John Wilkes Booth’s brother famously saved Abraham Lincoln’s son from death. And that same son, Robert Todd Lincoln, witnessed three presidential assassinations.

Coincidences even occur in science. Solar eclipses, for example, only happen because the sun is about 400 times wider than the moon and 400 times farther away, making the two appear the same size in the night sky. If the sun or moon were slightly larger or slightly smaller, or if the distance between the two was slightly altered, solar eclipses would not be possible.

What are the odds?

My favorite coincidence was told on the WYNC podcast Radiolab. In 2001, a 10-year-old girl named Laura Buxton released a red balloon from the front yard of her home. On the side of the balloon, she wrote, “Please return to Laura Buxton,” along with her address.

The balloon traveled roughly 140 miles south before descending and finally landed in the yard of another 10-year-old girl.

The second girl’s name?

Also Laura Buxton.

After getting in touch and explaining the coincidence, the girls decided to meet and discovered a range of uncanny similarities. Not only did they look and dress alike, but both girls had three-year-old chocolate labs, a grey rabbit, and a guinea pig, and both had brought their guinea pigs to the meeting unplanned.

How could these moments not be winks from God? Evidence of a higher power?

But I don’t buy it. I wish I did, but I don’t. With billions of human beings on this planet engaged in trillions of interactions at any given moment, coincidences are not only probable but likely.

It’s simply a numbers game. The numbers are astronomically large, beyond human comprehension.

Therefore, the coincidences are probable.

They may feel divine in the moment, especially when they happen to you, but ultimately, you are part of the math, too—a simple integer in the grand equation.

Coincidences will invariably happen to everyone. Some are big, some small, and most seem remarkable at the time.

But not the product of a higher power.

To this end, I launched a new religion a few years ago called Coincidentalism. Members of the faith (currently three in number) acknowledge and celebrate the remarkable nature of coincidences while firmly rejecting the notion that a higher power is manipulating events to make them happen.

We embrace the extraordinary nature of coincidences while viewing them as the rather ordinary outcomes of an unfathomably enormous system of component parts and endless interactions.

Our belief can be boiled down to:

Coincidences are amazing! Also expected! Because math!

Please note:

Coincidentalism does not prevent you from also believing in a higher power. It does not reject the possibility of God or some similarly spiritual (and perhaps less violent and self-obsessed) being. Both belief systems are perfectly capable of operating independently of each other.

God exists. Also, coincidences happen.

I still want to believe in a higher power. I still want to find faith in the afterlife. I still cannot, but if I someday find the faith I so desperately desire, I will continue to celebrate coincidences for what they are:

The remarkable results of a cosmic pinball machine constantly bouncing everything off everything else, resulting in moments of extraordinarily frequent unlikeliness.

Coincidentalism. Plenty of room if you’d like to join the congregation.