Coincidence (and the Lack Thereof)

I mentioned the word "coincidence" in yesterday's post, and immediately after typing it I thought, "Interesting word choice, Nathan, considering you don't believe in coincidence." I am one of those folks who believe everything--every moment, detail, emotion--is part of a grand scheme/design, from what we decide to wear to what career we choose to whom we choose to love. And when things happen that can't be explained--we bump into an old friend in the unlikliest of places, a package arrives on our doorstep from someone we've just been thinking about--we must look into the meanings behind these actions. The more we look into them, the more we accept them, the more they occur to remind us we are in the right place at the right time. During the past couple years, if I were to choose a Nathan-in-Oregon theme song, I'd probably choose Sarah McLachlan's "Fallen," which I played on repeat--blasting into my ears--while I wrote the shorty story "The Price of Lemonade" (which became an entire novel later, under a different name). That song--and video, as Jordan can attest to--capture what it's like to make some fucked-up decisions, but to find beauty in this fucked-up-edness. To find release--and to stop wanting to hear how yes, we screwed up, I know, I know. But lately, maybe the last three months or so, I've been feeling on the inside this notion of moving on, crossing lines, and pushing past old terrain into new territory. This theme has made it into the new novel, and I've been trying to capture how we hold moments--and then they shift into the past and we're immersed in a brand new experience whether we want to be or not. So it seemed fitting that yesterday: after I'd made a mix CD for Steve to capture his Christopher Pike-twin soul nature; after I'd attended the Our House volunteer appreciation night and felt surrounded by crackling, electric love; after I'd pushed past some doubts about my new novel and found renewed vigor....that I would come home and turn on my alarm clock radio and hear Sarah McLachlan's "World on Fire," the next track after "Fallen" on her Afterglow album. My soul has left behind loneliness, some fucked-up-edness, and started to accept how chaos and order are really best friends (maybe even lovers) in the end. I leaned my head down close to the radio--Rosie Thomas was playing in the other room, blending--and I just let Sarah's voice and lyrics wash into me.