Why Getting Lost is Sometimes A Divine Delivery

When Claudia and I boarded the tube (English for 'subway'), we boarded the wrong one. Quel surprise! We were looking for 'Westminster' so that we could make a second visit to Westminster Abbey ( the first time we arrived at closing time). But we couldn't find the location anywhere on the map. We were lost, again. Getting lost is a genius way of discovering a city. I get lost all the time in L.A. and I live there. The genius is that I always seem to need to be in the very place the following week that I got lost in the week before. Getting lost is never lost on me.

Once we got our bearings, and got back on the right tube, Claudia looked at me cheekily, as the tube glided to a stop at Notting Hill Gate, and said, 'We could go to the Portobello Market." With that, we jumped off the train and headed on an entirely different adventure.

Portobello Market is famous for its fabulous boutiques and shops of vintage this and vintage that, as well as its restaurants and bakeries and pubs. One of our stops at the end of our day, was a store filled with Indonesian, Tibetan and Indian masks, beads and Buddha sculptures as well as other religious icons. The shopkeeper buzzed us in the door and within seconds, the man asked us where we were from. Soon, it was clear that this entire day had been divinely orchestrated to deliver us to this shop. The shopkeeper turned out to be best friends with a man Claudia met 32 years ago at a party in Malibu, California, a man she knew had later moved to England. For the next 15 minutes they shared stories of friends and experiences. Then he picked up the phone and called their mutual friend. Claudia spoke with him and he invited her out to dinner.

Claudia called me moments ago to say that they had driven around in his car through the streets of London. He pointed out Sting's favorite pub, a place he often hangs out, and some of his favorite haunts. They went to dinner at a low key little joint and had a great meal. They talked of the past, of their children -- and they talked about where they were now. I cannot help but feel that something in that conversation was waiting 32 years to happen. For me, the meeting was confirmation of the magic and utter serendipity of life. Life can be exquisite if you let the Divine run the show.