Serendipity, first cousin to coincidence, and twin brother of synchronicity
- ~~ Phil Cousineau, Soul Moments, 1997
My life has always been full of serendipity, synchronicity and coincidences. I'm sure these happen to everyone; maybe I just notice them more often. I've decided to start documenting some of the more interesting ones.
- In the late 1990s, in a previous life, I was a taxi driver. One day, the owner of the cab I drove asked me what sort of music I liked. I said I liked many types, but I generally listened to classical music by choice. He gave me 2 cassette tapes that he'd recorded, and he thought I might enjoy them. One was easy listening and light classics, and the other was country & western. I didn't have the heart to tell him that C&W was not quite my thing, so I thanked him and kept the tapes. I listened to the first one, once, but never got around to the second one at all and I had no idea what songs were on it. End of story - or so I thought. In 2006, I met the man who quickly became my partner, and I decided to move from Melbourne to the country to be with him full-time. He's got a great voice, he's an arch-romantic, and he would sing "I love you because ... but most of all I love you 'cause you're you" to me all the time. It was vaguely familiar to me, from the Jim Reeves recording, but it soon became our "theme song". One weekend prior to the big move, my man was staying with me and I was sorting stuff out and deciding what to keep and what to chuck out. I came across the 2 cassette tapes, and on a whim I decided to put the country & western tape on for the first time, because whatever was on it, I knew he'd enjoy it. To our great surprise, the very first song that came out of the speakers was "I love you because", in the Jim Reeves recording.
- 18 March 2008 - I saw the movie The English Patient at the movies when it was first released in Australia in 1997. I enjoyed it, although it wasn't the sort of movie I would wish to see again in a hurry, and I never saw it again, on TV or anywhere else. On 18 March 2008, I was browsing in a record shop and came across a DVD of it, and on an impulse I bought it. The next morning, before I'd had a chance to watch the DVD, I heard the news that the director Anthony Minghella had died the previous day, the day I bought the DVD.
- 30 April 2008 - Some years ago I bought John Cargher's autobiography "Luck was My Lady: Memoirs of a Workaholic". He's not the world's greatest writer, but it has lots of interesting anecdotes. Then I filed the book in my library and virtually forgot about it. Even when I created Cargher's Wikipedia article in September 2007, I didn't remember owning this book so I naturally didn't use it as a source. I moved house in January 2008 and I decided to cull my library, removing books I am never likely to finish, or ones that I'm not likely to ever read again or even consult. I collected five boxes of books for disposal, and Cargher's book was one of them. The books went into the shed until I'd decided how to dispose of them. On Wednesday morning, 30 April 2008, I promised the books to a charity I'm involved in, so that afternoon I got the boxes out of the shed and went through them to make doubly sure I wasn't giving away something I really needed after all. I had heard that John Cargher had retired from radio broadcasting the previous weekend, after a record-breaking 42-year career, and when I came across his book I decided to hang on to it and re-read it for old time's sake, something I rarely do. Although Cargher was now 89, I had no idea that he'd retired due to illness or was likely to die any time soon. On Thursday it was announced that he'd died the previous day, 30 April, the very day I found and started re-reading his autobiography after an interval of at least 7 years.
- 22 May 2008 - As I was posting my first answer to this question, a Ravel piece was playing on the radio. Not the Pavane, but still too close not to notice. Then I had to go out and do some business for a couple of hours. When I got back in the car, what was playing on the radio? - the Pavane.
- June 2008 - I recently came across the term "Velpeau’s Law", which is apparently used to describe the experience of a doctor seeing a patient with a very rare condition, then a short time later has another, entirely unrelated, patient with the same rare condition. This was in a book about synchronicity. Then, a few days later, I was reading a different book, on the subject of things people said that they might have wished they hadn’t said, and I found this quote: "The abolishment [sic] of pain in surgery is a chimera. It is absurd to go on seeking it." (Dr Alfred-Armand-Louis-Marie Velpeau, 1839). I thought finding these 2 references to the previously unheard-of (by me) Velpeau in a short space of time was a nice example of both synchronicity and Velpeau’s Law in a non-medical context.
- 7 August 2009 - On 7 August 2009, 11:15 pm local time, I answered a question on the Entertainment Reference Desk about the film that had the greatest number of knights or dames involved in it. My answer was Oh! What a Lovely War (1969). The next day, at 3:12 pm local time, I added a bit of related trivia about the mini-series/film Wagner (1983), which starred Richard Burton in the title role. I was aware of this trivia because I happened to write that article in 2008. Out of idle curiosity, I checked Burton’s page, and it suddenly struck me that on 7 August 2009, I was exactly the same age (in years, months and days) as Burton was on the day he died. I’ll leave the reader to work out when I was born, but I’m sure I’m right. I really hope I’m not tempting fate by recording this, but it’s just too spooky to let it go.
- 12 April 2010 - Here's a triple coincidence that warrants immediate chronicling. I sat down at my piano this evening and played through a few preludes from Book II of Bach's The Well-Tempered Clavier. Then I went to Book I, played a few more preludes, and finished off with the best known one, Prelude No. 1 in C major. I couldn't say for certain, but I don't remember playing that particular prelude for at least 4 years. I had no particular reason for playing it; I was merely working my way backwards through the set, playing some of my special favourites, and decided to end with a refreshing palate cleanser. Then I went off to my study to edit Wikipedia. My partner was in the next room watching TV. I heard voices, but paid no attention to whatever was on. Then I heard the sounds of ... the Bach Prelude No. 1 in C. It could only have been the background music to the TV program. How weird, I thought, that, having just played that very piece for the first time in literally years, I should hear it again from a totally unexpected place not 10 minutes later. I got up and went into the TV room, noticed that the program was The Mentalist, of all things, and mentioned the coincidence to my partner. Amazed? It gets better. I went back to my study. The Mentalist ended, there was the usual closing music, a couple of ads, then an episode of CSI: Miami started. What should I hear as background music at the start of this episode? You guessed it - the exact same Bach Prelude in C major. So, in the space of less than 30 minutes, I heard this piece three times: once because I played it, and then from two completely unrelated TV programs that are not exactly known for any association with the music of Bach.
- 29 March 2011 - I record this here, in case it proves synchronistic. Last night, out of the blue, for no particular reason that I can pinpoint, it came into my consciousness that children often call eggs "googie eggs". That made me think of Googie Withers, and I had a sense she's about to be in the news. She's 94 now, so her death would hardly be unexpected - but I've actually heard nothing at all to that effect. Time will tell.
- I was three and a half months early. -- Jack of Oz [your turn] 11:53, 16 July 2011 (UTC)
- 9 June 2012 - Another eggy coincidence. I went out for my daily 45 minute walk today. At some point along the way, I started thinking about the film Love is the Devil, which I saw in about 1999, and never since. Why did this film come into my mind during my walk? I have absolutely no idea. I have not recently been reading, talking or thinking about Francis Bacon, Derek Jacobi, Daniel Craig or anyone connected to Bacon or this film. The last time I was consciously aware of thinking about Francis Bacon at all was over 6 months ago, when I was involved in a discussion on his talk page. Anyway, my walk came to an end, and I went into the lounge room, where my partner had fallen asleep in front of the fire, with the TV going. He had been watching football, but it had ended. I watched the program that was now on, and I was thinking about doing something else when it ended, when I noticed the next program was a UK quiz show I'd never heard of – "Eggheads" – so I thought I'd take a look. One of the first questions was about a film – you guessed it, Love is the Devil, and the question was who was the famous artist portrayed in it. There were 3 choices, Bacon being one of them. This was less than an hour after I had been thinking of that exact film, for no identifiable reason. There was no way I could possibly have known what the quiz questions on "Eggheads" were going to be. There must be a reason for this - the question is, what? -- Jack of Oz [your turn] 07:52, 9 June 2012 (UTC)
- 16 June 2012: 9:30 pm - Herbert Lom will be in the news very soon. -- Jack of Oz [your turn] 11:29, 16 June 2012 (UTC)
- He died on 27 September 2012. Again, I was three and a half months early. -- Jack of Oz [Talk] 20:38, 31 December 2012 (UTC)
- 9 May 2015 - I woke up this morning thinking of a scene from a movie I saw once, about 50 years ago, and never since. The scene was where Neville Brand was sort of holed up next to some sort of barrel placed in the middle of the street (!), and I think he had guns and was defying all comers to have a go at him, or something. My brain told me it was from The Tin Star, but I doubted that, because I remembered Anthony Perkins and Henry Fonda in that movie, but not Neville Brand. But whatever it was from, why I was I suddenly now remembering that one random scene that has no connection with my present life? There is simply no logical reason. So, anyway, a few hours later I went to do some shopping, and in the supermarket was a display case with some cheap DVDs. I like bargains and old movies, so I searched through the pile. Most were crappy romantic comedies from the 1990s onwards, or kids movies, or dramas that came and went just as suddenly. But right there in amongst them was - you guessed it - The Tin Star, the cast of which included Neville Brand. So I bought it, and now I'd better watch it to find out what it was I was supposed to be making out of this extremely odd coincidence.
- I've now watched it, but the scene I had in my mind when I woke up this morning was not in it. The quest continues. -- Jack of Oz [pleasantries] 08:14, 9 May 2015 (UTC)
- 9 April 2017 - While reading some old newspaper clippings about William Randolph Hearst this morning, I turned one over to see a review of Now All Roads Lead to France, Matthew Hollis's biography of the poet Edward Thomas. I read it with interest, and was particularly intrigued about the role Thomas played in the genesis of Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken", one of my favourite poems. Until now, Edward Thomas was little more than a footnote in my consciousness of early-20th Century British poets. So I thought I'd better read a little more about him. I go to his Wikipedia article, and the thing that hits me in the brain is that today, 9 April 2017, is the exact centenary of his death on 9 April 1917. Not a trivial coincidence. I shall read more of Thomas. -- Jack of Oz [pleasantries] 02:04, 9 April 2017 (UTC)
- 24 April 2022 - I watched a fairly ordinary 1969 movie on TV today: The Thousand Plane Raid. One of the main actors was someone whose face I recognised but could not name. I checked out the credits, and there it was: J. D. Cannon. On checking his Wikipedia page, I see he was born on 24 April 1922. Exactly one hundred years ago today. Happy centenary, JD. -- Jack of Oz [pleasantries] 09:22, 24 April 2022 (UTC)
- 21 December 2022 - I was in hospital for 7 days recently, having heart surgery. I wanted a book to read, and chose Helen Trinca's 2013 biography of Madeleine St John, Madeleine: A Life of Madeleine St John. I'd had it on my bookshelves for quite some time. I've never read any of her novels, but I did see the 2018 movie Ladies in Black, based on her first book The Women in Black (1993). I was aware she was the daughter of Edward St John, a well-known barrister and politician who made headlines in the later 1960s when my political consciousness was forming. I was aware she was the first Australian woman nominated for the Booker Prize, but I couldn't have told you for which book, or who beat her to the prize. And I was somehow aware she and I have the same birthday, 12 November (different years). But that was the extent of my knowledge of Madeleine. So, off to hospital I go. I read lots of fascinating information about her private life and her writing career, all new to me. Her Wikipedia page definitely needs some bulking up, particularly about her poisonous relationship with her father and step-mother, and her often inexplicable way of treating her other family and friends. But the most fascinating detail of all was about her death, from emphysema and COPD, which occurred on Sunday 18 June 2006. Why fascinating? Because that was the exact day that I met my partner, with whom I've been ever since. He took me to hospital, brought me home, and visited me every day. So, there we have it: two hugely significant dates in my life correspond to two hugely significant dates in Madeleine St John's life. Don't tell me that my choosing that precise book, out of the many hundreds of unread books I have, to read while recovering from the most serious (and potentially fatal) surgery I've ever had, was pure coincidence. Those hundreds include three of Madeleine's novels, so they're next cab off the rank in my reading list. -- Jack of Oz [pleasantries] 22:57, 20 December 2022 (UTC)