Surprises and Serendipity

Serendipity and celebration -it's like they quietly step into the backyard and move the heart from solitude to communion with God. I firmly believe that both are when the wind of the Spirit moves into the stillness of the heart and opens all the senses up to the absolute deliciousness of that very moment in time. In the last few weeks several of these moments came to me, uninvited but welcomed. The need to be alone with the combination of warm sun and some spare time, gave me the opportunity to go to my favourite cafe. On the third floor, with a large sun deck, overlooking the bay, this cafe run by a couple from the Middle East has become sacred space for me. Ahhhh, the bistro tables, large umbrellas swaying elegantly in the gentle breeze, and a perfect vista out over the Georgia Straight made the perfect setting. A place to deep breath, feel very alive, bring out my journal and pen and ...just be. Then add to that the best baklava ever, not too sweet, just enough honey to let it melt in your mouth. Celebrate simply because I could. Celebrate with a special coffee - a French kiss that came with layers that looked intriguing. Hanni and Viva know that food at any time deserves respect and awe and this afternoon I wanted to be awed by the ordinary. Hanni brings pastries in from France and he was telling me about their croissants. My mind wandered back to Castellammare and our late night bakery visits. Often, after midnight, we would hop into Maria's bright orange Fiat Cinque Cento (500), buzz open the family gate, and navigate our way through the Vespa's roaring round the City streets. The streets in the Neapolitan area never go to sleep until about 4AM, taking a short nap before waking shortly after 5AM. She knew the streets well, especially the oldest part of the City that is inhabited by one of the oldest cultures of the country - the Camorra. Narrow cobblestone streets just wide enough for her machina, full white bedsheets fluttered from balconies above, drying in the night air. Rattling along we climbed up the hills until we came to the corner where the open door of the bakery welcomed us in. The croissants always came out of the oven between midnight and 2AM, and you could smell your way to them in this crowded, old part of town! Hot steaming croissants that could be filled with either custard or nutella - whichever you prefer! I smile, outside and inside, when I remember our laughter as we sat by the beach in the early morning eating this decadent late night snack. Hanni laughed at the croissant story and agreed - celebrating isn't necessarily for events, but simply for the serendipity of the moment. A few moments later he arrived at my bistro table with one of his freshly baked croissants! "In honour of this moment here and the memory of late night croissant runs" he said. Memory and present were entwined together. I was sharing this recently with my friend Anj, when the two of us were at Mars Hill Graduate School for a weekend workshop on writing our story. It was our final day, and there were a couple of hours of free time and a place to sit in the shade would be perfect. We strolled out of the air conditioned confines of the cookie cutter office building, longing for a serene spot to sit together, continue our writing, and our conversations. "For a shady place to sit and relax", Anj said. "Well" I replied, "if we can find a shady quiet spot, I have the chairs in my car". One must always be prepared for serendipity!! My end of season bargains last summer of those folding chairs in a bag are kept always available, just in case I can slip by the beach and read a book, or snooze in the sun - with an extra in case a friend is along. We didn't have far to go. The far back corner of the office complex parking lot had trees nestled at the base of a rock retaining wall, soft ground cover, shade and tranquillity. There we sat, feet up, Anj with her computer on her lap, I with my journal, wearing elegant skirts, sipping bottled water and basking in the delight of our own little "park". Ahhhhhhh sometimes serendipity is just too delicious to pass by. And sometimes it simply arrives before your eyes and begs you to take advantage of the moment. However it arrives I think we should celebrate it! The sun has come creeping through the blinds this morning, pulling them back I am drinking in the colours of my garden, and sipping my soy latte - this feels like celebration this morning. And perhaps I realize that before long summer will be gone and hanging onto it for as long as possible imprints this one on my memory with the previous ones.