We just got back from our annual summer art trek to far-flung parts of America — nothing demonstrates the above principle better than travel — where every problem that arises must be resolved by finding the right strangers.
It’s my favorite aspect of commerce — people you don’t know taking care of issues that matter to you.
You can’t travel the breadth of this country by camper and not experience some challenges.
A plucky young woman we met on our way into the mountains of Arizona joined us the next day, to go hiking with our nephew. On her way up the mountains to Sedona her Check Engine light came on.
A woman in the campground office knew an honorable mechanic: “But he won’t pick up the phone for you! Let me call him, he’ll pick up for me.”
Two or three hours and a modest bill later — how do they make money if they virtually give away their services? — they’d got her Prius with 422,000 miles on it in travel shape.
The old guy who owned the shop kept marveling at the longevity of that Prius. He’d admired the hell out of its endurance, like we admired the hell out his integrity — and his ability to back up a tram past a motorhome mere inches away
This is just one example.
I’m kind of blown away by the sweet confluence of people showing up to enrich our experience.
— A woman who’d embarked on #VanLife living who played frisbee with us
— A glass artist we stumbled upon walking her dog during a sunset hike (we’re looking for glass artists at our gallery)
— The dudes at a Vietnamese noodle shop in Phoenix whose good-hearted banter made us feel right at home (Shout out to PT Noodles!)
In a campground in Santa Fe I moseyed over to the laundry area to help Ann — she introduced me to the owner, who’d been teaching tango earlier to willing campers.
I expressed how bummed we were to have missed it. Without missing a beat, he says: “Got a moment?”
We followed him into an intimate event hall — where he and his dancing partner tangoed for us to a Santana song! Me, my 16-year-old son and 24-year-old nephew watched from mere feet away.
Ann came in and peeped around a pillar to watch for a moment too (turns out she was afraid he’d couple us up and make us dance too!).
It was magical in the way that any spontaneous human playfulness is.
Serendipities trip all over you when you prepare to be delighted.
. . . . .
(all the gooey goodness
you’ve got inside)
(then watch small wonders
pop up in your day)
For insights and stories on the connected creative life, check out these bookitos: