Blogs » Musings On Muses » About this thing called Fate,,,

Subscribe


 
About this thing called Fate,,,
By joseexist in Musings On Muses
February 2, 2012

Fate could care less about our vulnerabilities. The strengths we nurture within ourselves are the lines of defense that we struggle to hold thru every waking moment. The onslaught of fate batters us incessantly. Our resolve wears into rags and remnants. We often find ourselves weaving those tatters into new shields or new weapons to fight with. To fate, we are less than afterthoughts. To us, fate is a cold blooded predator without forethought or remorse.

We hit the ground being carried. Eventually we get on our feet and stay there as long as we can. If fate doesn’t trip us up we stay the course and enjoy life as much as we can. Life is a run from point A to point B that we ourselves define, and one that defines who we are to a T.

Eventually we lose footing and have to be carried for the remainder of our days. It’s hard not to envy those who get to their feet early and those who stay on their feet longer than naturally possible. At times it’s equally hard not to envy those who fall too early and never return to their feet. Fates’ sense of humor is often a twisted amalgam of dead ends and sudden course corrections to nowhere.

We learn at some point in our lives to give fate as little attention as possible. Worrying about what it might throw at us is tantamount to giving up no matter how we feel about it. It matters not how smoothly our lives may run or for how long, eventually, anything can and most probably will ‘happen’.

Being proactive against the assault of fate will only get you so far. It’s always worth the prevention of course but only to a point. If you want to sure up your defenses to feel more comfortable each day, be prepared to discover just how much you missed in life once your final days start speeding by. It’s best to balance having fun with being cautious without too much precision. Some regrets are epiphanies we can do without.

Fate is a bell tolling without a set cadence. When it strikes there’s no way to tell how long the sound will last. There’s no denying when it rings for you. There’s always the hope that the toll is for someone else. It’s like a thief in the night. There’s no way to anticipate when it will ring for us, but eventually, it will.