A handful of those close to me know well my obstinance as it pertains to illness. I am continually firm in my conviction that I will not get sick. It’s not that I never get sick — because I occasionally do — but I get sick very rarely. And my secret? I am stubborn to the point of absurdity in the belief that I just will not get sick.
For years I’ve kept a log of “small world” occurrences. These are the events you witness that seem unlikely to the point of absurdity. Connections between disparate people in your life, one-in-a-million-trillion chance circumstances. I started this list after the following occurrence.
Medium is full of stories that go like this:
In another time, my friends at 18 would’ve remained close for life; close to my heart, close at hand. But we were born to the generation that fled from safety; we sought something bigger than our quaint origins and called it destiny.
I’m standing on a rock overlooking the ocean, just south of Jenner on Highway 1. The sun is setting, painting the type of picture you feel honored to witness. I spent this day, and the one before it, taking part in an act as ageless as watching the sky at dusk: climbing up rocks. And while rope and harnesses give us measurable added comfort as compared to our long ago kin, the fascination and simplicity have gone unchanged.