Terami.com Blog

My friend's ex-boyfriend introduced me to the bliss of randomness. Before I met him, when random things would happen, I'd become annoyed - or worse, unobservant. One day, we were sitting on the grass as I visited them in Boston. For whatever reason, I blurted out, You know what's strange? Every time I walk down a particular corridor at Logan airport, my right shoelace comes untied. Every. Time. Unbeknownst to me, Random is Good. Reoccurring Random is Better.

Reoccurring Random, however, quickly makes room for coincidence. And coincidence is the most beautiful bliss of all.

Rewind to 1993. I meet a guy named John through my ex-boyfriend. For about a year, he's part of my circle of peeps. Then, my circle of peeps moves back to New York, and I lose track of John.

2004. I have a show. Two old friends from college run into each other on the street, and decide to attend. One of them invites Monica, a girl I don't know. I meet Monica at my show. She's cool.

Two days later, Monica sees Kevin at a club. She stands next to him, not remembering his name, hoping he'll say something. He doesn't recognize her. It's awkward. He tells me about the weird girl who stood too close to him.

Three days after that, I see Monica at a restaurant that neither of us had been to before. I recognize her. She tells me she saw Whatshisname at the club, but felt stupid that she couldn't remember his name. I tell her, It's ok. He didn't remember your face. We laugh. She invites us to her birthday party.

We go to the party and there, we meet Jim and Dani (Walkie Talkie). They're cool. And they're moving to a new house. So, we volunteer to help them schlep their whatchamacallits.

Turns out, Jim and Dani live in my ex-boyfriend's old apartment building in Studio City. A few other friends also help them move. One guy is named John. And he looks familiar.

Thanksgiving falls on the following week. Jim and Dani are having the meal with John, and tell me his last name. BAM. Same John, from 1993.

A few days later, I go to a Starbucks in Burbank that I've never been to before. And run into John. My guts splay themselves all over my ribcage, in utter delight. I remind him of who I am. We laugh. He invites us to a Christmas party. He still lives in the same apartment that he lived in, in 1993.

It's like, for two weeks, I could actually see the fabric of connectivity. As though the machine was damaged, briefly revealing the wires and circuits underneath its usual iron-tough exterior. It makes me wonder about all the other connectedness we have, but never realize.

Above and beyond all things in life, I feel a thrill when I witness a fraction of design...a pattern, an intention, an abstract joint or juncture in the otherwise ignorant trajectory of my eyes-down path. It's as though some of us are meant to intersect, and no matter how fringe our lives may be, that intersection WILL happen. And that certainly takes the pressure off.