Notes on creativity and how things happen

Days ago sitting in the sun with a friend talking over things, and I write down some notes to remember some of what she tells me that she has been considering, and specifically something in particular she could use to help in the next steps of her life plans. This is something I write on a scrap piece of paper that I find in my backpack because I think I may know someone who can do what she needs done. I write the words down haphazardly, with unsure intentions, but basically thinking, 'maybe I can help...'

Days later I am digging through my backpack and I'm trashing receipts and papers I no longer need, rubbish that is taking up space, and into the garbage I throw the piece of scrap with the notes that I wrote while sitting with her. I've just crunched them into a ball. Honestly? Thinking I may not have time to inquire about it anyhow. Then I remember what it is, I take it out, uncrinkle it and smooth it with my hand. I re-read it. I think, '...This will take just a few minutes, let me query the world...' so, I say out loud to a companion of mine, reading from the note I ask him, "Hey I have this friend who needs...(this and such and whatever)... What do you think?"

He replies, "Well I know this fellow who can (maybe provide the service required)"

I go, "Wonderful, can you call him?" And he is on the phone in a moment with fellow who can do the thing my friend says she needs to accomplish the next steps in her life. And the fellow he called more than wholeheartedly agrees to be there for her when I give her the phone number to call him.

I do that, I call her and then she calls him and the deal is made.

Days from now my friend and this fellow will get together to accomplish something together that will be potentially very helpful for my friend's family.

I think afterward, 'Dang. This was so amazing. Absolutely no connection would have been made between these two people, nothing like what is happening between them would have happened if I wouldn't have pulled that piece of scrap paper from the trash. What she said to me, what I said I might be able to do to help would no longer be effecting a movement toward making something happen, to quite possibly a greater potential...'

No, it would be in the dump by now.

So it's like this: Things set into motion from something spoken, that is captured on the wind, channeled through a tunnel, traveling cochlea swirls to the mind to become written down on almost garbage under the beautiful sun on a summer day while sitting with a friend on a bench....

... to be stuffed away and carried on my back (for several days), pulled out to possibly reimagine itself from it's cessation. But, carelessly crumpled, stopped in it's tracks... then, reconsidered, re-released and spoken again, like an echo that once more tumbles itself forward to create... a conceivable happening.