In the final analysis, it really is all about chance decisions and the encounters that occur because of them, is it not?

The decision to stay in bed for a little longer on a certain day and then narrowly avoiding – or causing – an accident on the highway because you’re trying to make up time. Or convincing yourself to go to the gym when you’re just a little too tired, but know that you really should. Or just saying yes, when you know that no is the right answer.

I know I need to buckle down and get some work done, but I had just written a few articles and knew a few days away would be good for body and soul. Off to New Hampshire I went.

On Day 1, I helped a few friends with whom I was staying tackle a few chores, and then decided to head out for a mid-afternoon walk. As I was beginning, a hunter was ending, rifle in arm. I hiked for about 40 minutes, but, absent bright orange that would signal “no deer was I,” I decided to head back. I repaired to a neighborhood bar in Gorham where I encountered a lively gentleman in his 50s, whose nephew was headed off to play baseball in Tennessee and whose great uncle struck out Ted Williams, or so he says, and I believed him.

My favorite chance encounter of the week occurred when I came back from New Hampshire and dashed off to Walden Pond for a late November swim. It was there that I encountered Mike, a tattooed, garrulous late-season swimmer (I love these guys), who correctly assessed that I was perhaps as crazy as he was.

And that is quite okay. But Mike also had some wonderful wisdom to share that I greatly appreciated. “Surfer’s ear,” he said, “have you heard of that?” And I admitted that I had not. “You have to get these,” he added, pointing to a pair of rubber inserts for the ear. “If you don’t, the bones in your ear will fuse and you’ll have a lot of problems.”

No one, except for Mike, had ever mentioned that to me, and I had kept on swimming, even as the water had headed down to the low 50s and even as I was having trouble maintaining my balance exiting the water.

A decision to keep swimming…and a chance encounter.

Thank you, Mike.