Is good fortune purely down to chance or are other forces at play? Could my lost love really be talking to me from beyond the void?
According to several academic and medical metrics, I am presently negotiating 50% of the top ten most stressful situations people commonly face. The specifics – at least for this piece – are irrelevant, as are my chosen coping strategies, but suffice to say in the here and now I could certainly do with a break.
Whilst engaged with one of the key stressors – moving home – I wondered if I would unearth a lost example of my early writing style. To be precise, in 1991 I wrote a funny review of a trip to Nottingham to watch Notts County with a couple of police colleagues. In a nutshell, on our arrival in my city of birth the game was postponed, my car broke down, and we were rescued by an AA low-loader that ferried us back just in time for our 6am early turn shift in Bracknell, Berkshire. Tying together this tale of woe was a shed full of shenanigans that may have caused professional standards a headache if social media and mobile technology had been available.
As I cleared a litany of loft luggage, some items having been left undisturbed for over 20 years, I struggled with a box as I clung to the step ladder. The slight inclination of my body disrupted the status quo and a single item fell from the aged cardboard container: my lost story, neatly folded. My excitement at re-reading this classic piece of literature obliterated any feeling of karma. Then, a few hours later, a single polaroid slipped from a stash of loose photographs. To place this event into context, I must have discovered over 500 images, the majority free from the security of an album. This polaroid was a picture of my first love Julie, who sadly passed away a matter of months before I unexpectedly reconnected with her younger brother. This loss was exacerbated by the knowledge that I had narrowly missed the chance to see her one more time. Her smiling face stopped me in my tracks. I didn’t even know that I’d kept a picture of her, especially so proximate to the mountains of family photographs and my late wife, Theresa.
There is ample evidence, particularly within the world of science, which suggests that serendipity is more than just random luck. While chance plays a role, fate often involves an unexpected yet meaningful discovery or outcome. When the planets align, it can often lead to something positive or insightful, even if you weren’t specifically looking for it.
Henri Becquerel accidentally discovered radioactivity in 1896 when he left uranium-enriched crystals in a drawer. He later found that they emitted radiation even without exposure to sunlight.
In 1928, Alexander Fleming left a Petri dish of bacteria uncovered and returned to find that a mould had killed the bacteria around it. This led to the discovery of penicillin, the first widely used antibiotic.
Thirty-nine years later, Jocelyn Bell Burnell noticed an unusual radio signal while analysing telescope data. It turned out to be the first observed pulsar, a type of neutron star that emits regular pulses of radiation.
Scientists studying bacteria noticed an unexpected effect when applying electric currents to cells. This led to the discovery of cisplatin, a chemotherapy drug still used today.
The notion that serendipity often manifests in ways that feel like the universe is nudging us is not necessarily a wistful process. Psychological theories suggest that our brains are constantly seeking meaning, connecting dots that might otherwise seem random.
Neuroscientist Jaak Panksepp proposed the SEEKING System Theory, describing the brain’s reward pathways that drive curiosity and exploration, reinforcing our tendency to seek meaning in experiences. In tandem, Viktor Frankl’s Meaning-Seeking Model highlights the human drive to find meaning in life, even in difficult circumstances. His work suggests that meaning seeking is a fundamental psychological motivation.
Whatever the true line of enquiry, on this beautiful occasion my subconscious knew what my conscious self-needed, and the world conspired to deliver it. I will take this moment of serendipity, hold it close, and believe that there exists a twilight world where logic fails.
© Ian Kirke 2025
@ianjkirke
Title photograph by Amy Reed on Unsplash.