Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Random Magical Meetings

Random Magical Meetings George and I visited my family in South Dakota for a week over July Fourth. While there, I saw my sophomore year college roommate, Pam, for the first time in over 30 years. Shortly after returning home, I had an hour long phone conversation with another friend, Jon, I also met at South Dakota State University. Jon still works there and recently received a prestigious award, so I picked up the phone and called him. Surely you’ve had the experience, like I have, of meeting someone for the first time and feeling you already knew them; they are somehow familiar – or you liked them immediately on sight. Or perhaps disliked them immediately on sight, for no apparent reason. Some would call that karma. I minored in Spanish in college. In the advanced classes, we weren’t allowed to speak English in the classroom. Several native Spanish speakers were in Senora Beattie’s class (perhaps for an easy “A”?) and I became friendly with them, intentionally speaking only in Spanish when our paths crossed on campus (or at the nightclubs). Franklin, from Brazil, and his cousin gave me Spanish comic books to help me learn. Leslie Gonzales, from Argentina, was handsome, suave and a snappy dresser. Aurora, from Mexico City, was gorgeous, kind, and animated – a bright light. I moved to Phoenix, Arizona after graduating, at one point working as an Executive Assistant and New Accounts Specialist for a bank in Scottsdale. Imagine my surprise when I looked up from my desk one day to greet a customer, and it was Aurora. This was two years after I’d moved away from South Dakota. Aurora needed traveler’s checks. She was on her way to Mexico City for her wedding, where she was marrying Franklin, from Brazil. You can’t plan this kind of thing. Seriously? Two people from South America and Mexico meeting at college in one of the coldest states in the United States heartland, falling in love, and getting married… Wow. Pam and I were randomly assigned roommates. We didn’t choose each other; chance did. Three decades later, she drove from Harrisburg to Brookings before her son’s baseball game ended, just so we could spend an afternoon together. I met Jon because I dated two of his high school friends from Mitchell. He was the only one in the bunch who didn’t drink alcohol, so was always the designated driver. And, quite simply, one of the most sincerely “nice guys” I’ve ever met. I don’t keep in touch with either of the guys I dated from Mitchell anymore, but I can pick up the phone and call Jon any time, and he’s still my friend, always there for me if I need anything. My first job in Arizona was as a placement counselor for temporary jobs at an employment agency. I quit after only 3 ½ months, but it was at that job I met the gal who would become my best friend. It feels like that job transpired because I was supposed to meet Nancy. Some friendships come and go. This one has been steadfast – morphed and grown through ups and downs and time and distance. We call each other "Dearheart" and were in each other’s weddings.

My marriage ended after 12 years; Nancy’s remains one of the strongest and most loving romantic relationships I know of. I couldn’t have chosen a better husband than Peter for my dear friend if I’d hand-picked him myself. I ran across an old journal entry a while back that caused my heart to skip a beat or two. I had written it in guided writing style several years after my divorce, when I was ready to meet the love I would spend the rest of my life with. I had inquired about this man I hadn’t yet met, but felt was on his way. The response was he was literally and figuratively right around the corner and everything was being arranged so we would connect. If I hadn’t booked an appointment at the chiropractic clinic where George has his massage practice, we would have met another way; I’m certain of it. The apartment he lived in at the time was literally right around the corner and up the street half a block from mine. You can’t plan this kind of thing. Which makes me wonder… What would it be like to look at every single person we meet as a gift? Like opening a present…who knows what may be inside…? I think we might experience more wonder and open ourselves to not just new possibilities, but the awareness the possibilities are happening. Right here, right now. When has a random magical meeting transformed your life? Let us know on the blog! If you found this post helpful, please share it with your friends! Authentically Yours, Laura