Choose Your Own Destiny

When I was younger my mother instilled in me a belief in destiny. A predetermined series of events, there's a reason for everything, if it's supposed to happen it will kind of leaving-the-details-of-your-life-up-to-someone-else thing. Granted that someone else is supposed to be God, it strikes me now as an easy way out. Why should I work for anything if it's all in stone already?

But also, isn't life in the details?

If someone else is planning it for you, isn't it inevitable that a few will be missed? For those who believe God knows/sees/does/controls all I suppose the point is moot, but what about free will? The ability to choose between many options? Why would we be afforded those things if it was all planned for us anyway? That's a really mean trick I say. If this ends up being the case, we're presently existing under a pretty twisted higher power.

And yet...and yet...sometimes I can't help myself from reverting back to that childhood innocence of thinking if I'm meant to have a certain thing, it will come to me. It becomes a battle with my adult self yelling that if I want something, I have to work to get it, it's never just going to come to me. It gets awfully noisy in my head sometimes.

The choice is what ends up being so frustrating. Knowing about it anyway. I can choose to believe either side of the coin, and I usually do at my convenience, but in the end it only makes me feel like a wet noodle. Despite God's alleged hand in my life, I try to see everything as a choice. (I realize that kind of lends a hand to my already large issue with control, but so be it. At least I am aware of it.) I can choose to be angered by the asshole at work or I can ignore his pompous attitude and happily get on with my day. I can choose to be happy with my single status or I can lament not following the standard that has been set. I can even still choose to think that if I believe I'll get something, I eventually will. There's a difference between thinking it and relying on it as the way to live life.

The fact of the matter is I don't always choose the better option, but generally speaking I am happier. It also helps that other things in my life are going well, I admit, but why is it just misery that loves company? Why not happiness too?

So I guess in the end I choose to believe I get to paint the details. Although I didn't choose to exist, I get to choose how. It's a lot more work, which leads to the occasional if-I'm-meant-to-have-it-I-will thought, but the payoff is greater. I've earned it.