Unpredictable Life—Part 2

These are just a few examples of how our lives are guided by a string of contingencies. At any one moment there are an uncountable number of possibilities that could happen to me, but only one does. I lose sight of—am mostly ignorant of—all those other possibilities, because only one thing did happen and I thus get accustomed to thinking that there is some determinable continuity to my life. It's almost as if what happened was destined to occur. I come to believe that my life is either mostly under my control or is steered by an invisible hand. It must have been fate.

We don't want to believe that life is really so fickle. We look back and see a string of events that appear to be sensible, continuous, and consistent. Of course, if I live, for example, in a specific place and time and follow a certain lifestyle, there is some degree of continuity to my existence. If I'm a shepherd in Australia, it's unlikely that I'll get elected to a political office in New York. If I've been a farmer all my life, it's a pretty good bet that I'll be in my fields in May, rather than on a cruise in the Bahamas.

We can also narrow our contingencies by the kind of life we live, but this unfolding of events can make us erroneously conclude that there is far more determinism to existence than there really is. In fact, there is very little necessity to life. We are not fated to do anything.

This situation can seem to some people as a grim message about the meaningless of life; that we are just buffeted about by random forces. Instead, we want to think that our life has a purpose and an intent—as we long for continuity (read: meaning). We want to believe that we are who we are, because destiny wanted us to be here, not because a string of random events brought us here. Is my life nothing but a succession of accidental happenings; a whimsical and senseless existence? None of us want to think that.

In fact, life is neither random nor predetermined. I see another message—one that lies between these extremes. More importantly, I think it can also mean that I am free to be who I want to be—that I am not permanently stuck with the person I've been telling myself I am. We tend to buy into stories about the type of person who we come to think we are—shy, overweight, unable to dance, prone to anger, incompetent at sports, not liked by my family, etc.

These stories are not necessarily true. I am not necessarily destined to stay who I am. I can break free of my shackles and change. I can reorder my life. There's nothing compelling me to do the things I've been doing. I don't have to be passively reacting to life. If I acknowledge and accept the fact that uncontrollable contingencies do impact who I am and what I'm doing, I can open up to them and dance with them. If I don't futilely try to control them, but see them coming and roll with them, I can be much happier.

If my attitude is influenced by gratitude for simply being alive and having uncountable possibilities, I can accomplish things I never thought possible. Fate has not laid it all out for me—I can play a part in the dance and take the initiative. Sure, dangers and threats lurk around the next bend, but so do gifts and grace. When I give up struggling and quit fighting life, I begin to fully accept it and become positively engaged with and captivated by it.