Embracing Serendipity and Magic Can Change Your Life

A friend and I were texting today, and she shared that she’d had a “come-to-Jesus moment” when she realized she’d booked her fall schedule solid. In response, she begged off one obligation and decided to end overcommitting and leave more room for serendipity. I reflected on her realization. She and I both hail from the same hallowed halls of MIT and we’ve each leveraged our talents, credentials, expertise, and access—but in very different ways. She is a top entrepreneur with a very long list of professional accolades and a sprinkle of “transformational” adventures to her name. I am a highly regarded water expert with very long list of “transformational” adventures and a sprinkle of professional accolades to mine.

My response to her text: “I am all about allowing room for magic! It’s often how the best things happen.”

To wit, just last week I returned from a trip deep into the Brazilian Amazon with Science on the Fly, where we set up a water quality monitoring program on the Iriri River in Kayapo indigenous territory, all while enjoying an exclusive—but rustic—flyfishing lodge experience. (Science on the Fly (SOTF) is uniting the flyfishing community and river scientists to study, protect, and restore rivers around the world. At just five years old, SOTF has built a community of 150 citizen scientists sampling over 350 sites across the US and internationally.)

Within the flyfishing community, a trip to this kind of lodge is a coveted opportunity. I came clean immediately: “Just so you know, I know nothing about flyfishing and am here as a water scientist.” (To be fair, as an outdoor adventurer with lots of river experience, I’m not completely clueless about flyfishing, though I don’t know much about the intricacies of the sport nor how to do it.) My approach seemed to endear me to the other participants since I had none of the bro bravado that often characterizes the sport. Instead, I was there for science, jungle, water, animals, community, and indigenous knowledge. And, indeed, I got all of it and more. I even learned to cast.

The circumstances under which I was invited are certainly serendipitous—I happened to attend an event where I reconnected with a long-lost colleague, who happens to be a founder of SOTF. I happened to mention a women’s water retreat I’d run and another trip I was scheming. He happened to tell of an upcoming trip to Brazil that still had room, offering, “If you can get yourself to Manaus, we’d love for you to join.” “When?” I asked. Ummm…one month from now.

Serendipity was certainly the author of this invitation. That I was able to attend—or perhaps, wanted to, was willing to, attend—however, was an entirely different matter indeed. Rather, it’s about the choices I’ve made, the barriers and boundaries I’ve pushed, the things I value. At its core, it represents the architecture of my lifepath—one that’s been designed to honor the things I value most: beauty, adventure, heart, community, and the natural world. And, often, I can turn on a dime to honor them.

The word “serendipity” was coined in 1754 by Horace Walpole who played on The Three Princes of Serendip, a fairy tale in which the heroes ‘were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things they were not in quest of’. Today we define serendipity as “The faculty of making happy and unexpected discoveries by accident.” (Oxford English Dictionary)

I’m not sure the Oxford definition fully equates with the original intent (that is, in the case of Oxford, having a knack for making accidental discoveries versus having the perceptivity to make discoveries outside the lines.) I prefer the fairy tale version, which smacks of both Einstein and whimsy.

Regardless, when that unexpected thing represents something more than just a beautiful discovery, but instead presents an opportunity—an opportunity to explore a new corner of the world, do something unexpected, grow as a human being—it’s not enough to simply marvel at the possibility. Seizing an opportunity—whatever it might be—requires action. Answering a call to action might require much from us. It might require us to overcome discomfort at traveling alone or with strangers or it might ask us to push aside our tendency to people-please and draw a boundary with family. It might call us to spend less money or to be more organized or to make more space. It might challenge our sense of self-worth or our place within family and community. It might make us question what we truly value and why. We may need to have our own backs when others can’t fathom our “whys”. In the end, doing different, being different, living different requires courage. And, it turns out, this is the Hero’s Journey.

Answering the call is a practice. Once you’ve traveled solo, you realize how quickly you adapt, you learn how to meet people, how to stay safe. Once you do the thing everyone else seems to think is weird or crazy, you get over worrying about being weird or crazy. Over time, somehow, the weird and crazy becomes less so and you go from crazy to bohemian to cool to just you. Your parents come to “accept your lifestyle” (as I was recently informed by a relative). Eventually, many naysayers even begin to join you: They go to Burning Man or live out of their vans or work less conventional jobs.

Edna Mode of The Incredibles, in her quirky, sharp-witted manner proclaimed, “Luck favors the prepared”…“darling.” When presented an opportunity to journey to the Amazon, my deliberately architected life and well-exercised muscles of courage had me prepared. In short order, I conducted a bit of preliminary research, shuffled my schedule slightly, searched for flights, made a plane reservation to Manaus, and answered the call with a “fuck yes!”. And, the experience was exactly the dose of magic I needed at just the right time.

Ultimately, I suspect my friend is looking for more of what I term “magic”—more out-of-the-matrix, life-affirming, nature-connected time and adventure—than actual serendipity. For she has certainly cultivated plenty of serendipity and successfully answered many calls. Opening herself to “magic”, however, may challenge her in new and unfamiliar ways. I’m all for it.