On Serendipity

“I have the same issue. I’m here alone. Do you want to share?”

I turned to my right and saw a well-dressed man smiling at me. Why not?

“It’s a deal,” I said with a returning grin. We agreed I would join him at his table and keep separate checks, each ordering things the other would like to try. We called the bemused waiter over to explain and he left with our appetizer order.

A few minutes before, I had been scanning the menu with a patient waiter smiling at me. Poppadom, Lamb Samosas, Chili Broccoli Salad, Okra Fries, Biryani, Mattar Paneer – it all looked good. After a light breakfast at the hotel, I had been out walking in London for the entire day and skipped lunch, wanting to savor this evening meal before the ballet. “Hmm…I am hungry, but it’s just me. Normally, I would split dishes with a friend – what can you recommend in smaller plates so I can enjoy a variety?” Eating alone while traveling is never a problem. But the menu was mouthwatering and at that moment I was missing a dining partner to expand my choices at the table. The waiter pointed to the “small bites” section on the menu and suggested I order a few of these and that I also try some naan and grill and biryani dishes. I had my doubts—it sounded like more food than I wanted—so I asked for a Kingfisher to stall for time, and he went away.

That’s when I heard the friendly voice next to me, inviting me to share. He too, was dining alone and wishing he could order a larger variety of dishes. We talked nonstop and I got to enjoy a feast of Indian food. He had just arrived in London after speaking at a conference in Oxford, coming straight from the train station with similar anticipation of a great meal. His growing company focuses on children’s literacy and we talked about the joys of reading to our kids and the power and wonder of children’s books before moving on to politics and the cultural scene in London (we both had packed schedules for the theater).

The waiter appeared and asked about dessert but a quick glance at my watch said an hour had flown by and it was 7:20. I quickly got my check and said goodbye, sprinting to the Royal Opera House for the ballet. I now know that cultural events start on time in London. I arrived at a deserted lobby where a security guard with an earpiece spoke rapidly to an usher in my seat section and whisked me up a back elevator to my seat. I was just sitting when the lights went down, and the orchestra struck its first tuning notes.

I love to travel for these serendipitous moments. In fact, I love life for these serendipitous moments. I have more examples of these “at the right place at the right time” stories than I could share in ten articles. On my cross-country road trip, there was a moment when I turned a corner at the Japanese Garden in Portland, Oregon to find a line of people patiently waiting. I got in line first and then asked the person ahead of me what we were waiting for (hearing my mother in my head, talking to my teenage self, “would you jump off a cliff if everyone else was doing it?”). It turns out that people travel from all over the world to the garden in the autumn in hopes of seeing the Momiji Maple Tree or simply “The Tree” (like just Beyonce or Adele – no other name needed) when it is in its full October glory. Luckily for clueless me, “The Tree” was at peak autumn color that day and the sun was also shining out from behind the clouds, another rare occurrence in Portland. I waited my turn and had my quiet five minutes with the tree – it was like winning the lottery twice without buying a ticket or even knowing there was a lottery. I still marvel at the serendipity of that moment.

Last week I wrote about my worries about how to “plan” for unplanned moments and serendipity on my European road trip. That shared dinner in London on Tuesday night and my memory of the Japanese Garden has relaxed me a bit. I am reminded that serendipity is a mix of circumstances and a frame of mind, and that it can strike anywhere at any time.

But it happens most of all when I am traveling. When I am out and about, more opportunities arise to join a stranger for dinner and good conversation, to see the magical maple tree’s splendid fall colors in dappled sunlight, to marvel about the brilliant changing glow of the sky with another sunrise junkie who rose at 4am to enjoy the moment. My own theory of serendipity borrows heavily from research in innovation and entrepreneurship. Researchers believe that the more we bump up against other people and the more random encounters we have, the more we experience "knowledge spillovers" which lead to innovative breakthroughs. Susan’s version? The more we bump up against other people and the more random encounters we have, the more we experience serendipitous moments, which lead me to feelings of wonder and joy.

The thing is, we experience serendipity when we have an open mind and when we are moving outside our home. When I travel, I am a sponge – soaking up and noticing every little detail around me and curious about the world in ways that sadly, don’t happen on a day-to-day basis. This just might be me, but I suspect many of us have routines that lead us to walk through large parts of our day on auto pilot: we know the route to the grocery store, we recognize all our colleagues in the meeting, and we have been to that gym and seen those same sweaty people for months on end.

So, I am worried less now about “planning” for the unplanned and serendipitous on my European road trip. I know from experience that it’s mostly a frame of mind (and getting up from my chair and out of the house). And I am also focused more on how to increase those random and frequent encounters in my everyday non-traveling life, knowing that they are the wellspring of serendipity.

Because while I know not everyone would eagerly join a stranger for dinner at an adjacent table in a restaurant in London (or anywhere), these moments cause me to wonder at the fabulous randomness of our world and they simply make me happy.