The future has not been written. There is no fate but what we make.
In the grand narrative of Terminator, Sarah Connor not only has a fate, but one that seems quite escapable. Real life, on the other hand, seems a lot more open to change. The probability of making a big break is relatively small, but then so is the probability of dying in a spectacular way.
For a long time I hoped to uncover my destiny, to discover what I was “meant” to do. I would be in the right place at the right time and everything would just happen. Maybe it would be the right woman sweeping me off of my feet. Maybe it would be the dream job that would appear out of nowhere suited exactly to my skills and needs. Yet, none of this has happened.
Instead, I have found life plodding along at its usual pace. Most of the time there is insufficient information to make adequate predictions about where something will take me. I take advice from friends, family, various people that I trust about which way to go on big decisions. It’s relatively rare that something big or unusual happens.
My grand destiny is nowhere to be found. If there is a grand plan out there that I have not gained access to, it is not for lacking of trying. I have begged God and the universe for a sneak peak, but all I get is more laundry and more days at work. I try to avoid having a chip on my shoulder and brush off the worries of people that think I am not making something of myself. I do my best right now and let destiny take care of itself.