A day of divine timing, chance reunions, and perfect coincidences.
Some days feel like the universe is running on your clock. Other days, you realize you’re just running late, but somehow the timing works out perfectly anyway. Today was exactly that kind of day for me: messy, colorful, full of unexpected reunions, and woven together by this uncanny thread of perfect timing.
The morning started a bit chaotic. I thought I’d head out right after brunch, but reality decided otherwise. Breakfast turned into finishing a pile of impromptu work (INFJ brain says: “just one more task before leaving!”). By the time we actually set foot out of the house, it was already past noon. On the way, there were detours: printing business cards at Revo, grabbing bakso and mie ayam for lunch, kue cubit for snack, and only at around 3 p.m. did we finally make it to JIExpo for the Art Jakarta 2025 VIP preview.
If you know me, you know that by 3 p.m., I was already internally scolding myself for being “late.” But life, as always, had a better script. Right at the entrance, the first person we bumped into was our old friend Dimas Subagio. Perfect timing. We caught up on everything, laughed at old stories, and even shared updates about his family. He showed me photos of his big brother, Ibong Subagio, who, fun fact, used to be my boss back in 2001 during my first-jobber era. Life’s funny that way. I ended up meeting Dimas more often than his brother, especially at art events like this.
Not even five minutes later, another coincidence: my brother-in-law Christ Billy arrived at the same time, and we ended up going in together. Apparently, he got an invitation through his membership at MACAN Museum. He even tried to get my eldest daughter to come along, but she refused. If she had said yes, she could’ve gone home directly with us afterward. (Teenagers and their mysterious logic, right?)
Inside, the surprises kept unfolding. We stumbled upon Ben Soebiakto. Yes, my former boss at Fimela and then my partner in Project Eden in 2011. Turns out, Ben is now creating something called BART (Bible Art). The philosophy behind it blew me away: art inspired by scripture, presented in playful, colorful, yet deeply thoughtful ways. Here’s the kicker: we had been admiring those very pieces before realizing they were his. The serendipity of it all made me laugh.
The fair was like a maze of connections. I bumped into Mbak Aliyah Natasya, who had been trying to schedule a meet-up with me in BSD but hasn’t managed to. Then there was Oggy, my husband’s colleague, with his wife. While he and my hubby chatted about work stuffs, I and his wife chatted about parenting, kids’ school choices, and even recommendations about Treasury products. (Yes, financial tips in the middle of an art exhibition. Why not?)
And just when I thought the day couldn’t stack up more coincidences, it did. I met Edward Suhadi and his wife, Francy. Edward is someone I’ve admired for years for his writings; on social media, in books, in every corner where his words find a home. The last time he released a book Panduan Lima Jari, I remember planning to buy it but I haven't checked out. Then, out of nowhere, it arrived at my doorstep. Edward had personally sent and signed it for my hubby Natali. To meet him in person this time felt like the loop closing.
Finally, as we were literally heading out to catch another event, we ran into Monica Gunawan, the woman behind Art1. Monica is also Dimas’ partner. Yes, the same Dimas we’d seen right at the entrance. It felt like the universe was cheekily winking at me, saying, “See? If you had arrived earlier or later, none of this alignment would’ve happened.” Of course, we had to wrap up the day with a group photo before leaving.
From JIExpo, we rushed to BSD for DATE (our JPCC community group). We made a quick stop at Domino’s Pizza so we wouldn’t arrive empty-handed. When we finally walked in, it was almost 8 p.m. Again, just in time, since the rest of the group had barely arrived too. The sharing that evening centered around this simple but weighty idea: choosing what, who, and when to help. It struck me that the entire day was already a living example of that very lesson: timing matters, and sometimes the help you can give is just showing up when it counts.
Here’s the reflection that kept circling in my head later that night: maybe being “late” is not a failure. Maybe it’s just life’s way of adjusting the script so you meet the right people, hear the right stories, and experience the right kind of serendipity.
Psychologists call this synchronicity. Carl Jung coined the term to describe meaningful coincidences that can’t be explained by cause and effect but feel too perfect to be random. Researchers have even studied how people who are open to synchronicity often report higher well-being and life satisfaction. It’s not that the universe is magically arranging everything for us, but our openness helps us notice patterns, connections, and meaning in the chaos.
The opposite of this openness is what I often catch myself doing: clinging to my own timeline, berating myself for being late, or assuming I’ve “messed up” the plan. But if I zoom out, I see that so many of my favorite memories were born out of detours. That traffic jam where I reconnected with an old song. That canceled meeting that freed up space for writing. That “late arrival” that turned into perfect timing.
Maybe the challenge is this: stop fighting the clock, and instead learn to dance with it.
Dancing with God's timing,
Nuniek Tirta Sari
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