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	<title>Chance Happens</title>
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	<link>http://www.chancehappens.com</link>
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	<lastBuildDate>Wed, 06 Jul 2011 23:08:26 +0000</lastBuildDate>
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		<title>Being in the right place at the right time</title>
		<link>http://www.chancehappens.com/being-in-the-right-place-at-the-right-time/</link>
		<comments>http://www.chancehappens.com/being-in-the-right-place-at-the-right-time/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 06 Jul 2011 23:08:26 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tdomf_3594f</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[connection]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[bible]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[chance]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[faith]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[fate]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[God]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[hope]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[right places at the right time]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[timing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.chancehappens.com/?p=2079</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The Right Place at The Right Time or is Called Fate by Shannon Streno on Friday, July 1, 2011 at 6:24am I have a very interesting story of my life to tell you about, I am a collector of books I collect every book I can find about the Bible. I go to yard sales [...]]]></description>
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<p>The Right Place at The Right Time or is Called Fate</p>
<p>by Shannon Streno on Friday, July 1, 2011 at 6:24am</p>
<p>I have a very interesting story of my life to tell you about, I am a collector of books I collect every book I can find about the Bible. I go to yard sales  the Good Will and  New and used book stores, well one day I was miles away from my home working and   out of the corner of my eye I saw this tiny little used book store so I stopped in and  I search the store and found this really old worn out book from the 1950&#8242;s it was  a red soft covered little book the tiltle read The  Gospel of  John. I thought neat I will buy this, so I bought the book and  as years went on I would carry this book to work with me and read it often ,</p>
<p> Years and years later I open the very front of the book and I found  a place were a person could right their name on a line and put in the Date on the very Day that That person Became a Believer in Jesus Christ .</p>
<p> Well when I read the hand written Name that was written  in 1953 I hit the floor it was my Grand Mother Ruth She wrote her name in it. At the time I read this it was the year 2001 , so 47 years later I have a book that was lost and it  belong to my  Grand Mother at one point in time .</p>
<p> Ok heres the Kicker My grand mother Ruth has been dead for 20 years and I found the little book of John&#8217;s Gospel three towns away in a hard to find Little used book store Amazing !!</p>
<p> Wait it gets better.  I have been reading this book for years and never open the cover I never really fully possessed the book I never really owned it because I did not read it cover to cover if you know what I mean.</p>
<p>My entire family never new that My Grand Mother Ruth was a Christian we have always wondered and now we know my whole family rejoiced when they found out that when we get to Heaven we will be with   Grandma Ruth.  Even though she was in Heaven the seed she planted many years earlier even after her death was still being watered from a little Red worn out book that she took the time to write her testimony in and proclaim she Believed In Jesus . Praise Jesus !! No one knows how many other people read the book and put their Faith in Jesus.</p>
<p>So you never know when you might be in the right place at the right time. I would say that it was the Lords will that led me to  that little used book store at that very day to buy  My Grandmothers  book. </p>
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		<item>
		<title>Where I&#8217;m Supposed To Be</title>
		<link>http://www.chancehappens.com/where-im-supposed-to-be-3/</link>
		<comments>http://www.chancehappens.com/where-im-supposed-to-be-3/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 08 Nov 2010 05:26:42 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tdomf_3594f</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[chance]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[employment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[happy]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[inspiration]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.chancehappens.com/?p=1881</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[On the actual eve of my graduation from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, I sat in the middle of the campus with a few close friends and drank and smoked as we’d done a thousand times before. With no sleep, I dragged myself through graduation and, then, grabbed my bags and went home for [...]]]></description>
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<p>On the actual eve of my graduation from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, I sat in the middle of the campus with a few close friends and drank and smoked as we’d done a thousand times before. With no sleep, I dragged myself through graduation and, then, grabbed my bags and went home for good.</p>
<p>Jobless for months, I was lucky to have a sister who allowed me to live in her family’s home until I could get on my feet; unfortunately, with being unemployed, my presence became too much to bear and I was asked to leave. My mother, through a friend, was able to find me an apartment, so I avoided homelessness. However, this only added to the stress I already had become accustomed to, because, now, I would have no choice but to quickly find a job.</p>
<p>I bounced from one meaningless job to another—door-to-door phone-service salesman, temporary post-office work—until I, finally, found a temp-to-hire data-entry position at a reputable company. Not the sort of employment I expected for myself, considering I’d recently graduated, but it was a stable bring-in-money-for-the-rent income that I sorely needed at the time. And because it wasn’t a guaranteed full-time hire, I had to show everything I had in me to prove I belonged…and I did. Eventually, I was asked if I wanted to become full time, and of course, I responded in the affirmative. I was scheduled to take a drug test and was told that, following a negative result, I would be granted an official position.</p>
<p>A few days later, Human Resources called me into the office and informed me a background check had been conducted and that the findings were such that I would not be granted employment. I scanned the report she’d handed me and, in complete shock, I shook my head. I’d never even been in the back of a police car, never even seen a jail’s interior; I tried to convince her that the person on this sheet was not me (found out later it was my cousin’s alias)…but she, simply, instructed me to leave. As the security guard stood over me as I gathered my things, I cried.</p>
<p>At the time, that job appeared to be the greatest thing that could have happened to me. I would have been able to pay my rent; I wouldn’t have had to accept the occasional–yet helpful–eight dollars from my sister to help me eat; I would have, once again, had a sense of self—but, fortunately, even though things had not worked out, I was guided into an opportunity—again, a temp position, with the possibility of permanence—with a company that would encourage me to use all of my talents. This media company gave me the chance to utilize—and build on—various skills I’d picked up over the years–writing, proofing, background office work (something I’d done all through high school and college)–and I was happy.</p>
<p>And I remain so.</p>
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		<item>
		<title>Chance in Art</title>
		<link>http://www.chancehappens.com/chance-in-art/</link>
		<comments>http://www.chancehappens.com/chance-in-art/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 22 Jul 2010 16:30:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tdomf_3594f</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[chance]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[aleatoria]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[aleatoric]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[art]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[automatic drawing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[J. Coleman Miller]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[photography]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[water]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.chancehappens.com/?p=1932</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I have seen your cool idea and would like to contribute an artistic take with the wildest collection of chance art you will ever find. First, I would like you to see my new photographic technique- I have been working for almost 5 years to perfect this new approach to fine art composition using only [...]]]></description>
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<p>I have seen your cool idea and would like to contribute an artistic take with the wildest collection of chance art you will ever find. First, I would like you to see my new photographic technique- I have been working for almost 5 years to perfect this new approach to fine art composition using only moving water and a D300. My work is quite unique, and I have searched the globe for others who might use this particular aleatoric method, but to no avail. Every image you will see in my website is a digital photograph of moving water, and these amazing images are found on the roiling surface of my small Koi pond at my home in Houston. The magical fish have for years given me chance images that sometimes make the hair on the back of my neck stand up upon discovering them. This is truly an untapped well of creative freedom that I have literally stumbled on by chance in 2006. Please witness my madness at http://jcolemanmiller.com and let me know if you think this might be a good story.<br />
I have also created a movement of chance based artists from around the globe who use aleatoric methods in the commission of their works, and have put together a web gallery featuring 21 of the best examples of chance artists in our time. I hope you will read about all of us at http://aleatoricart.com. We are intent on bringing chance art to the forefront of the collectors minds, and are passionate about educating and inspiring a new generation of artists with our modern takes on rarely discussed chance methods, which have been used for thousands of years in the creation of fine art. I have produced a nice coffee table book about these creative souls and have sold a whole bunch of them at $120!  I can send you one if you like, as my gift to the movement.<br />
I ask you spend a few minutes on my websites to catch my drift, which for you should be easy, and hope that you will enjoy what you find in my pages. This was a massive effort that came together in December when we debuted our group during Art Basel Miami at our hugely successful Aqua Wynwood show.<br />
Thank you for your time,<br />
J. Miller<br />
PS: I would like to link to your site, and you can link to mine. I get over 1000 hits a month on my pages.</p>
<p>Please check out our &#8220;Godfather&#8221; at http://anti-theory.com</p>
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		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Everything Adds Up in Math of Chance Meetings</title>
		<link>http://www.chancehappens.com/everything-adds-up-in-math-of-chance-meetings/</link>
		<comments>http://www.chancehappens.com/everything-adds-up-in-math-of-chance-meetings/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 18 Apr 2010 19:48:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Staff</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[synchronicity]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[chance meetings]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Nepal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[teacher]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.chancehappens.com/?p=208</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Written by John Flynn The man&#8217;s face was naggingly familiar. There was something about his eyes. We met on a muddy Himalayan trail, halfway around the world from home, but I could have sworn we&#8217;d known each other in a previous life. Then, out of nowhere, a long-forgotten math problem popped into my head: &#8220;If [...]]]></description>
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<p><em>Written by John Flynn</em></p>
<p>The man&#8217;s face was naggingly familiar. There was something about his eyes. We met on a muddy Himalayan trail, halfway around the world from home, but I could have sworn we&#8217;d known each other in a previous life.</p>
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<div class="hr">Then, out of nowhere, a long-forgotten math problem popped into my head:  &#8220;If a train left Chicago heading west &#8230;&#8221;</div>
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<p>That&#8217;s it! The man with the scraggly beard was Mr. Irvin, my algebra teacher from Saratoga High School. We hadn&#8217;t seen each other in 17 years, and back then he&#8217;d been standing before a chalkboard in a short-sleeved white dress shirt with, if my memory is true, a shirt-pocket protector. Now he was clad in Gore-Tex and Polarfleece, all caked with 2 1/2 weeks of trail dust. But it was definitely the same guy.</p>
<p>How infinitesimal are the odds of bumping into someone you know thousands of miles from home? Well, it&#8217;s more likely than you think. My former math teacher was the third acquaintance I&#8217;d met in Asia in the span of three weeks. And two of those encounters were, once I thought about them, perfectly explainable.</p>
<p>These seemingly chance meetings happen to me so often I&#8217;m no longer surprised by them. Those of us who love to travel are linked by an invisible web of connections that often sends us to the same remote places at the same time. The late photographer Galen Rowell, who experienced many of these encounters, wrote that like-minded people travel down hidden corridors that often converge unexpectedly.</p>
<p>If, for example, your passion is Mozart, or grand cru Bordeaux, or maiden voyages, chances are your travels will one day lead you to Salzburg, or St- Émilion, or the port of Miami. And the odds are good that eventually you&#8217;ll bump into a friend there who shares your passion.</p>
<p>In that light, my Nepal reunion with my old algebra teacher was not only  foreseeable, it was almost inevitable.</p>
<p>In the 1950s and &#8217;60s, before he settled down to try to teach second- order polynomial equations to bored teenagers, Dick Irvin had been one of America&#8217;s top Himalayan mountaineers. We tried to exploit this every chance we could: Our teacher would be handing out an algebra quiz, and we&#8217;d plead: &#8220;Can&#8217;t we take it tomorrow, Mr. Irvin? Tell us about that big storm on Makalu. &#8221; Occasionally he&#8217;d fall for it.</p>
<p>But his stories were enthralling, and one day I asked him to recommend a few mountaineering books I could check out from the school library. Toward the end of the school year he took me and a few classmates up to Castle Rock, in the hills above Saratoga, and showed us some knots and climbing moves.</p>
<p>I&#8217;m sure Irvin had no idea what he was starting. Mountains took over my life, and I spent the next couple of decades hiking and climbing the great ranges of the world.</p>
<p>If mountains happen to be your passion, you&#8217;ll one day make it to Nepal to see the greatest range of them all, and it&#8217;s likely you&#8217;ll go in the fall, the best season for trekking. And there&#8217;s a good chance you&#8217;ll one day find yourself in the picturesque village of Ghorepani, which occupies a ridge high above the Kali Gandaki river, astride several of the most popular trekking routes. Which is where I happened to be standing, catching my breath, when Dick Irvin came bounding up the trail.</p>
<p>A few years after I graduated from high school, he&#8217;d resigned his teaching post and returned to the mountains, his original love. He took a job with Mountain Travel Sobek, the East Bay adventure travel company, and, at the height of the trekking season, was leading a group on a 21-day circuit around Annapurna. The standard stopping place on Day 18? Ghorepani.</p>
<p>In retrospect, that meeting seemed almost predestined. So did the one a week earlier, when I ran into my old skiing instructor, Mimi Vadasz, outside the Royal Nepal Airlines office in Kathmandu. She was also a climber, en route to Makalu, the same mountain we used to ask Irvin about. In those days, the Royal Nepal office was a reliable place to bump into old mountain friends: Just about everyone had a problem with their reservations.</p>
<p>My third Asian encounter, though, was one of those bolt-out-of-the-blue coincidences. One misty morning on Koh Samui, an island off the east coast of Thailand, I walked down to the beach and bumped into a guy I&#8217;d once shared an office with. I can&#8217;t think of any connection, any hidden corridor, that would have brought us both to that place at that time.</p>
<p>I&#8217;ve had a few other chance meetings like that, and it always makes me wonder how many near-misses we have: The sixth-grade classmate who strolls by while we&#8217;re peering into a shop window on the Champs-Elysées, the old girlfriend who strides into an Outback pub half an hour after we&#8217;ve left, the former neighbor who strolls down the dock in Ketchikan minutes before our cruise ship ties up. This sort of thing must happen all the time.</p>
<p>There&#8217;s another phenomenon that will be familiar to anyone who&#8217;s ever spent time on the world-traveler circuit: You&#8217;re constantly bumping into backpackers you&#8217;ve previously met in distant parts of the world. You have a beer with a Danish guy at a bar near the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, and then you see him again on Kao San Road in Bangkok. You ride the overnight train from Cairo to Aswan with a pair of Irish women, and five months later you bump into them on the Milford Track in New Zealand. These reunions are far from mysterious: The world-traveler circuit really is a circuit, and the young vagabonds on it follow a well-established path.</p>
<p>But it points up one more aspect of travel: The more friends you make, the greater chance you&#8217;ll have a delightful reunion with them in some far corner of the globe.</p>
<p>T<em>his story originally appeared in the <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2004/10/10/TRGT794E5B1.DTL" target="_blank">San Francisco Chronicle</a>. </em></p>
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		<title>Nothing left</title>
		<link>http://www.chancehappens.com/nothing-left/</link>
		<comments>http://www.chancehappens.com/nothing-left/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 17 Apr 2010 17:10:31 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tdomf_3594f</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[turning points]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[daughter]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grief]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[love]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.chancehappens.com/?p=1891</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I wake up every morning thinking nothing is left. I&#8217;m wrong our daughter is still here but the love of my life is not. He&#8217;s been gone for 8 months and still every morning its like a shock again that hes gone. Had to leave the house, pack up and get rid of stuff there [...]]]></description>
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<p>I wake up every morning thinking nothing is left.<br />
I&#8217;m wrong our daughter is still here but the love of my life is not. He&#8217;s been gone for 8 months and still every morning its like a shock again that hes gone.<br />
Had to leave the house, pack up and get rid of stuff there meant a lot, how do you move on from feeling everything is gone.<br />
I wish i knew the answer and I wish I could tell our daughter IT WILL BE OKAY but I can&#8217;t say it and mean it.<br />
There is just noting left NOTHING but sadness that is not gone.<br />
Our daughter says mom is there anyway to bring papa back hate saying no baby it&#8217;s just you and me and all the memories.<br />
Right now the memories are hard to deal with and she thinks i&#8217;m not sad because i try to be strong for her.<br />
It seem like there is nothing left no love no joy and i no longer have no answers&#8230;. why is all there is left and that&#8217;s pretty much nothing&#8230;</p>
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