In the dwelling place of lions

This morning I dreamt about sharing my birthday with the once and future president, who was blissfully, serenely basking in birthday adoration.

Gifted with unexpected time just now, I somehow wandered into wondering about the word “serendipity.” Checking my favorite etymology source, I discovered:

Walpole said he formed the word from the Persian fairy tale “The Three Princes of Serendip” (an English version was published in 1722) whose heroes “were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things they were not in quest of.”

By accidents and sagacity. Such a precise description of how I move through the world, upending without intention, noticing, entranced, unexpectedly deliciously jumbled new combinations.

Serendip, it turns out, is an old name for Sri Lanka, with roots stretching back to the Sanskrit word Simhaladvipa, meaning “Dwelling-Place-of-Lions Island.”

Immediately I thought of the Strength card in Tarot, where a woman holds a lion. In one of my decks, her hand is so clearly in the lion’s mouth that I can feel the roughness of his tongue.  Strength. Boldness in the presence of danger.

As I looked further into the origins of serendipity, I learned that it was coined in a letter written two hundred and seventy years ago.  On my birthday.