That we are steering the ship is mostly an illusion. Some would have you believe our fates are already written, we are simply turning the pages as we go. If that is the case, I have to ask, written by whom? There seem too many variables, odd occurrences and random events for things to be following a predetermined path.
I might consider that instead of a prewritten chart we are on, it could be an etch-a-sketch. Each time we stumble or wander off in the wrong direction, the overall picture gets erased, lines disappear and suddenly we are on a new path. That makes more sense.
Because Lucy fell off her bike and hurt her knee, in high school she didn’t make the track team. Because she was not active in sports, her interests changed and she found herself, years later, teaching French class, which caused her to be invited to a party where she met Francois.
Eventually they were
married and moved to France, where Francois opened a cute, little bakery on a
narrow cobblestone road. Lucy, when not
teaching English at the local school, would help Francois by delivering loaves
of bread. One day, with a basket full of
fresh bread on her handlebars, her front tire jerked sideways and she went
tumbling down to the road, striking her knee.
Fate, or cosmic humor?
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