Unexpected Positive Occurences (UPOs)

The reason that Unexpected Positive Occurences are so important to me is that they remind me that life often turns out to be far more positive than I assume it will. Noticing the positive things that actually happen despite my sometimes dire expectations helps me to remember that lots of things in my life do go well. So even when things are a bit stressful or life throws a curly one at me, I can be comforted by the thought that at any time, out of the blue, something really nice could happen.

Like the other day when I stopped to walk the dog at a reserve we both like. When we got there we had the large grassy area to ourselves. As the dog romped and I walked sedately beside the stream under the budding trees another car drew up. Out of it climbed a woman and a huge brown and black dog. They walked the opposite way to us but then we both turned so we were on a collision course. I put my dog back on the chain. As we neared she called out ‘she’s quite friendly’ and I replied ‘my dog is well socialised’. We let them do the doggy small talk of sniffing each other, then when they behaved well let them off their leads to romp around. The two dogs had a wonderful time splashing through the stream and bounding over the grass. The two humans also got on well and had a great chat. In the end we exchanged cards and agreed we’d meet again at the reserve to walk our dogs some other day.

As I drove away I reflected on how totally unpredicted that pleasant meeting had been. No one had ever so much as spoken to me at the reserve before. It gave me a warm glow thinking of all the unexpected positive things that might be just about to happen to me.

UPO sighting

That’s Unexpected Positive Occurrence for the uninitiated. The other day a great experience slipped into my life when I wasn’t expecting it. I was driving through a little town when I saw a sign saying ‘delicious hot muffins’. It struck my eye just as I realised I was feeling peckish so I pulled into the café carpark, unable (well, unwilling) to resist the lure. As directed by the sign I wandered across the gravel to the back of the brightly painted wooden house the café was located in, intent only on finding a warm muffin or scone.

What met my eyes when I rounded the corner of the house was a complete surprise. Stretched out behind it, hidden from the carpark by a wall, was a deliciously green and shady glade, lawns dappled with the sun that reached through the tall trees round its perimeter. A fountain pattered softly into a pond filled with orange fish. It was like stepping into the secret garden from the book. ‘Have a look around’ someone called and I turned towards the verandah at the back of the house where two middle aged women in aprons sat, having their morning tea before the lunchtime rush started. ‘It goes right back,’ one of them said. ‘There’s even an outdoor bath. The first time I used it I looked up to find two big black eyes looking at me – it was a beast from the paddock next door.” I laughed, entranced.

Feeling welcome I wandered off through the garden, finding new treasures every few steps. Early cheer were in bloom and I stooped to sniff their quiet scent, evocative of childhood. Next to them was an amazing flower that reminded me of a jellyfish – a primulus with a yellow centre from which indigo blue and white stripes radiated out. A thin black cat with enormous ears accompanied me, rubbing round my legs and making me feel even more welcome. I paused, suddenly realising that the scene stretching out in front of me was reflected back from an enormous mirror framed in ornate, flowery metal work. But beyond that more garden stretched, with the sensuous scent of daphne luring me on.

Finally I came back for the muffin I’d originally stopped for. The owner chatted as she served me. When she found I was on my way to Wellington she said ‘you must go to Te Papa,’ the museum. ‘I went there last time,’ I said, ‘to the Monet exhibition.’
‘Oh wasn’t it wonderful?!’ she exclaimed. ‘I went three times.’ We went on to rhapsodise about Monet and how each of his paintings evoked a different emotion in us.
‘Which was your favourite?’ she asked. I was just about to say ‘the haystack’ when she said ‘mine was the haystack’. Then we were off again.

I left with an olive, feta and zucchini muffin, warm from the oven, and a little container of tamarind chutney, both of which were delicious. But more importantly I left uplifted by the beauty of the garden, the warmth of the welcome and the pleasure of sharing my enjoyment of a wonderful painter. It just showed me that I never know when my life is about to be interrupted by a wonderful unexpected experience.