“What are the odds?” you say to yourself, “I can’t believe that just happened.”
It’s strange when something incredibly unlikely happens, like accidentally dropping a penny and it lands on its side and its rolling arc travels across the floor and somehow behind the refrigerator. It’s strange because such events occur like any other event, presenting themselves through time like every other thing that has ever happened. Except you know that something incredible has transpired.
Last weekend, I was teaching yoga in Cartersville, GA at Yoga, Etc. The time was full and busy and wonderful and intense. I was flying home out of Atlanta. Yikes, what a busy airport. Bodies strewn everyone, commotion, emotion and people crabby because they were anxious to get home on a Sunday night. Of course my flight was delayed. Of course, there was a seat mix-up. Of course, I couldn’t get the in-flight movie to work. Upon landing, I have to wait for two airport attendants to bring an aisle chair so I can deplane. Of course, they were late and of course my wheelchair took a beating down in the cargo hull.
I am finally driving home and wondering about my son’s experiences this past week. For the last five years, I have been seeing only half of his life. His mother Jen and I share custody. We even have dinner as a family once a week. But still, I miss a lot. Paul has recently got his driving permit. When I had left, he was driving in parking lots and suburban developments, but was not ready for streetlights and traffic.
I am driving down Wayzata Blvd after a thirty-minute drive and a brown Nissan Murano pulls smoothly in front of me. I think to myself, “Hey, that looks like Jen’s car.” I do a double take, “But that’s not her driving. Wait, is that Paul driving?” I go back and forth between thinking it’s Paul and dismissing the possibility. I think, “This guy is driving awfully well. It couldn’t be Paul.” Just as I am about to conclude that it’s not him, my cell phone rings and it’s Jen confirming that, yes indeed, it’s Paul driving for the first time in full traffic.
There goes the penny. What are the odds? Think of the exquisite timing – the delay in Atlanta, the slow airport attendants, my time in the airport bathroom, pausing to text at baggage claim, struggling to get my bag in my car…all of it leading to the precise moment that I am driving the exact car that my son notices when looking to his left and decides to pull out for the first time ever into full-on traffic. And I got to see it all – some salve for a dad’s aching, loving heart.
Processing such fortune is not that simple. It’s easy to dismiss it quickly as simply luck and flatten the incredible event. Trying to make too much of it is also a mistake, like it was destined to be or a gift from God. Here’s what I know for sure: it was incredibly unlikely; the joy of it tickled the back of my head at the top of my spine; and I felt grateful.
Events such as these – a rolling penny, a driving son – are happening all the time in our lives. The onus is on the seer to realize the extraordinary in the ordinary and to feel grateful.
I caught up to Jen and Paul and we talked on a side street between our cars. I told Paul that his driving was flawless. He bustled with pride. Jen called me later that night. Apparently, while driving home, Paul pulled too quickly into their garage and slammed into a lawn chair that dented the back wall. There are some things that I am fine with not seeing…and life continues to roll.