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Serendipity Among the Stones: A Creative Awakening at the Glasgow Necropolis

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Friday, 22 Nov 2024, 18:57



"In the garden of memory, 

in the palace of dreams... 

that is where you and I shall meet."

– Théophile Gautier




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Serendipity Among the Stones: A Creative Awakening at the Glasgow Necropolis

What surprised me about yesterday’s blog was it received the most visitors since I’ve been blogging. It was just under 6000 visitors. I guess it was universal themes of life, death and hope that connects us all. However, I cannot forget the serendipity of yesterday— (See footnote).

It wasn’t a planned visit. My footsteps to the Glasgow Necropolis yesterday were, in hindsight, guided by something I might call serendipity. Like Newton’s apple, which fell at precisely the right moment to spark a revolutionary idea, my presence there was more than chance—it was a creative alignment of time, place, and reflection.

I hadn’t intended to spend that November afternoon walking among the graves of strangers, contemplating the mysteries of life and death. My original plan was more unsure. But as I passed Cathedral Square, a sudden pull directed my gaze to the imposing structure of the Necropolis, its headstones and monuments silhouetted against Glasgow’s afternoon sun. Something prompted within me—a nudge, an unspoken thought. Without much hesitation, I found myself climbing the hill into that silent city departed where they lay as victims of  Sheol's insatiable appetite. 

It’s strange how serendipity works. The events that led me there felt insignificant at the time: a slight change of direction, a chance look upward, the absence of pressing commitments. But in retrospect, I see how those small, seemingly inconsequential decisions brought me to a place that would inspire more than just an afternoon’s contemplation. It would become the setting for a piece of writing that would connect deeply with others—more deeply than anything else I’d written.

Yet, it wasn’t just the graves that shaped my thoughts that day. Serendipity had one more piece to the puzzle: the group of volunteers I encountered earlier in the city, raising funds for Pancreatic Cancer Action. Their resilience, their fight to preserve life against all odds, contrasted poignantly with the stillness of the Necropolis. The tension between these two encounters—a vibrant struggle for life on one hand, and the inevitability of death on the other—ignited something in me. It felt like Newton’s apple hitting my creative mind, a collision that produced sparks of insight.

Serendipity has a way of weaving threads we don’t notice until the tapestry is complete. My essay, born of that day, became a meditation on life, death, and the hope of resurrection. It was also a testament to the unexpected alchemy of creativity—the way chance encounters, and unplanned moments can converge into something meaningful. I hadn’t gone to the Necropolis seeking inspiration. But inspiration found me, because I happened to be at the right place at the right time, both physically and mentally.

This idea of serendipity is not new. Many creative breakthroughs, from scientific discoveries to works of art, owe their origins to chance encounters. Newton’s falling apple, Fleming’s accidental discovery of penicillin, even Wordsworth’s daffodils—all these moments hinge on being present, receptive, and willing to explore the unplanned. Creativity often thrives not in rigidly controlled circumstances but in the interplay of curiosity and chance.

Reflecting on that day, I realize that serendipity isn’t just about luck. It’s about awareness—being open to the world and its whispers. The Necropolis was there long before I arrived, its stories silently waiting to be told. The volunteers, too, had been standing there in the cold for hours, offering their smiles and hope to passers-by. What changed that day was my ability to notice, to connect the dots, and to let those moments shape me.

In the end, serendipity and creativity share a common thread: both require a kind of faith. Faith that the apple will fall, that the unplanned detour will lead somewhere meaningful, that the graves of strangers might whisper something profound to an unsuspecting visitor. And sometimes, as it was for me that day, faith that an ordinary afternoon can transform into an extraordinary moment of insight.

When I think back to the Necropolis now, I’m filled with gratitude—not just for the inspiration it gave me but for the serendipitous chain of events that brought me there. It’s a reminder to embrace life’s unplanned moments, to be present and attentive. Because in those moments, whether walking among the gravestones of the past or beneath the apple trees of possibility, we might just find the seeds of something extraordinary.

Footnote:

Serendipity refers to the occurrence of events by chance in a happy or revealing way. Call it a fortunate coincidence. The word has its roots in the Persian fairy tale, The Three Princes of Serendip, in which the characters frequently make discoveries by chance.


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