On Encounters that Choose Us
A few days ago, during one of my morning walks, I heard a persistent meow—a sound distinct enough to make me stop. Looking up, I saw an all-black kitten perched in a tree, its silhouette almost disappearing against the early light. With Halloween so close, the timing felt almost too fitting. There was something magnetic about the moment—a quiet pull, as if the universe had decided this was where our paths were meant to intersect.
Black cats have long carried a sense of mystique, woven into folklore and superstition as omens, guardians, or even tricksters.
But standing there, I wasn’t thinking about myths or symbolism. I was just drawn to the fact that this kitten was watching me, almost expectantly. It’s the sort of detail you couldn’t plan or predict if you tried. If you did the math, what are the chances of finding a black kitten in a tree, meowing at the exact moment you walk by, and allowing itself to be pulled down? In the grand scheme, it’s an almost negligible probability—a near-zero chance in a city full of other trees, people, and countless moments passing by unnoticed. But that’s the thing about fate, isn’t it? It often reveals itself in the smallest gestures, wrapped in mystery and invitation, daring us to pay attention.
Embracing Creative Disruptions
In photography and film, we’re often taught to plan, refine, and control. But these encounters—the black kitten in a tree, the unexpected reflection in a lens—suggest that maybe not everything can or should be meticulously crafted. Sometimes, disruptions aren’t accidents, but moments of connection waiting to be seen.
The ancient Egyptians revered cats, seeing them as protectors and symbols of both grace and mystery. There’s something to be said for that kind of reverence, for appreciating what we can’t fully grasp or explain. Every now and then, it’s the details that defy understanding that bring a piece of work or a moment to life.
In practice, this openness isn’t about losing focus or letting things spiral, but about being willing to shift course when something unplanned reveals itself. The surprising light, an offhand remark, or a stray thought—these aren’t interruptions; they’re cues, and paying attention to them often enriches the final outcome. It’s less about embracing the unknown and more about acknowledging that not everything needs to be tightly held to carry meaning.
For those of us who train to refine our perception—whether through creative work, observation, or other practices—there’s a deliberate attentiveness to these cues. It’s not just letting things happen but actively noticing them and understanding that what emerges naturally often hints at larger forces in play. It’s not about chasing clarity but recognizing when something subtle aligns, suggesting a deeper connection within the patterns around us.
Exploring the Shadows and the Unknown
The encounter with the kitten wasn’t just about stumbling upon an animal in need. Black cats have a long and complex history in folklore, often seen as protectors or bearers of hidden knowledge. In some cultures, they’re considered symbols of good fortune, while in others, they’re tied to the supernatural. It’s the ambiguity that fascinates—a creature that exists at the edge of our understanding, challenging us to question what we think we know.
Creativity, too, thrives in these liminal spaces. Not in certainty, but in the willingness to explore the shadows and unknowns. To ask questions that have no immediate answers. Whether it’s the spontaneous meow of a cat in a tree or an idea that appears out of nowhere, these moments aren’t easily explained away. They hint at something more, something beyond logic or intention—a quiet affirmation that not everything needs to be explained to be embraced.
Letting Mysteries Unfold
As I reflect on the encounter, I’m less inclined to see it as a coincidence or a random event. Perhaps it’s better viewed as a meeting of paths, a convergence that holds meaning even if we don’t have the language to define it fully. The kitten didn’t shy away when I reached up to pull it down; it didn’t startle or run. It felt less like an accident and more like a quiet invitation to change the course of my morning—and perhaps, a small shift in my days that followed.
It’s easy to try and impose a narrative on these events, to make them fit into our understanding of fate or fortune. But maybe the lesson isn’t in explaining, but in accepting that some connections don’t need definitions. In creativity, the same holds true. My process isn’t about forcing a narrative but being present enough to let one unfold, recognizing that the unexplained and the unplanned often carry their own kind of purpose.
Reflections on Connection and Creativity
As the kitten settles into his new surroundings, I’m left thinking about the broader connections between encounters like this and the way we approach life and work. I’ve never had a cat before, and honestly, I didn’t have the slightest idea what to do at first. It’s been both funny and tiring—learning about the right food, setting up a litter box, and figuring out how to care for a little creature who suddenly relies on me. I’ve been treating him like I would a puppy, even getting him a little harness and taking him on short walks. Each day, we’re finding our rhythm. I’ve found him an amazing forever home, and I’ll be getting him healthy over the next month before he transitions there.
This whole experience has been a reminder that we’re not always the architects of our moments; sometimes, we’re just participants in something bigger, drawn into scenes we didn’t anticipate. And if we’re willing to listen—to the meowing, the whisper of wind, or the small disruptions to our routine—we might find that what emerges isn’t random, but exactly what was needed.
In the end, creativity and connection are as much about openness as they are about skill. They’re about allowing room for those near-zero chances, the almost-impossible moments, and the mysteries that can’t be easily solved. It’s a practice of letting go and letting in—of understanding that sometimes the most profound elements aren’t what we orchestrate, but what chooses to reveal itself to us.
Feeling good and ready to execute? Let's get started on your next photography project.
Click the link above to begin!
