Walking towards the Biello/Martin studio tonight to see a friend of my sister’s show, I found myself standing on the corner of 3rd and Arch. The light was not yet mine, but still I looked down Arch, as any good Philadelphian would do, gaging the cars as they sped towards me, trying to see if I could cross any sooner. For a moment, it looked like there would be a break in traffic, but as I started to step out into the street, a red Mini Cooper convertible came zooming down Arch. I could tell it was moving fast, and that I wouldn’t be able to safely make it across to the other corner before it crossed the street. I paused, choosing to postpone death until another day. I stood there, in the left lane of the street, waiting for this little red car to pass. As it got closer, I squinted my eyes, focusing on the driver, who was starting to look familiar. As the car passed, I found myself grinning broadly, shouting “hey!” and raising my hand in an enthusiastic greeting, while the driver did the same thing.
It was my friend Jim.
I know I’ve said this before, but I love random encounters such as this. In the moment, I feel absolutely in sync with the universe. I interpret it as a signal from the cosmos that I am in the right place at the right moment and in a broader sense, that I’m walking the correct path. I needed this reminder, because I’ve been playing a game of inner tug-of-war tonight, my feelings of insignificance battling with my knowledge of my inherent worth. But for the seconds that I was standing on that corner waving at a friend, those feels dissolved and made room for the reminder that the universe has a delightful sense of humor.