journal.: A Carpool to Serendipity and a Table of Coffee Shop Drinks.

pool time

brittany, chèrmelle, ni’ma


i’m trying to think of how to tell you this story. i’m trying to think of how to tell you this  story because I believe in synchronicity. or, it believes in me. we believe in each other. 

at times the chances that circumstance brings into the connective tissue of my daily life is so uncanny that it is not. the turns I don’t make seem to exist as a fool for the turns that I do which are so wildly right, I wonder how could the seemingly wrong or other way have even shown itself in the first place. 

for all these turns to line up where they even merit a connected puzzle to be by chance is as if i walked upon a house in the middle of Marfa.

clearly designed and fully furnished yet someone told me it happened by chance.  the intricacies of my life – perhaps yours too -are just too intricate for there not to be guided intuition.  

so, on this day nearly three weeks ago en route to my friends @fairseason’s baby shower, I took a train from Long Beach headed to LA to meet my sister. 

the timing that be, wasn’t going to allow us to meet at our designated meet point and within a split second, I decided to stay on the metro and take the chance of meeting her downtown, and then head towards the Silverlake reservoir together.  each stopped passed and I got closer to the junction of needing to either proceed on my own or wait for her,  I realized that exiting the train would be the best idea. 

by the time I arrived above ground, my sister informed me she wasn’t going to be able to join me after all. so there I was, standing near 7th and the downtown Metro on a Saturday. i decided to catch an Uber and it seemed so had everyone else on this corner, looking at their phones and looking for a license plate to match. 

my first ride was dropped as soon as I found it; I called a second one.  within minutes the detail said it would pick me up in seven minutes. I waited, content to muse about people crossing the intersection, who were they?  locals? tourists? lovers? homeless? student photographers? 

then my phone buzzed alerting me that who they were I wouldn’t find out because my ride was arriving. but I didn’t see it. then, I heard it, a voice, yelling Chèrmelle. I turned west and saw brown arms flailing. I figured that was my pool because who else would know to call my name. I crossed the street and came towards the car, only to reveal these familiar lovelies from Brooklyn, in the back seat of my pool.  

brittany and I have crossed schedules for over a year. ni’ma and I both love coffee and the business of inspiration but have yet to have a proper coffee together. here we three are,  three weeks later from that pool ride, a few schedule adjustments and not too far from brittany’s now LA home, making good on serendipity. we’re listening universe, are you?


eightfold coffee