When I stop to examine the major crossroads of my own life, it seems that the impelling force behind the direction of travel has almost always been intuitive, even accidental, without any serious consideration given as to whether it was the right decision or not. But accompanying those vague, arbitrary decisions was an intense commitment and application to bring them into being. A simple, often barely felt intuition swept along by dogged determination to get the job done. And all around these impulsive life decisions dance little corrective serendipities that nudge me, this way and that, along the course of my life.
I once felt the path of existence was entirely random and unplanned, but now I am not so sure. At this stage in my life I feel these contingent decisions are amounting to something, that destiny is at work and, as the pieces fall mysteriously into place, that there is some sort of ultimate meaning. Life appears not random at all but part of a superior system, where the sum of these intuitions have an order, a greater purpose, an eventual orientation beyond what we ourselves can perceive. Even in the whorl of our own personal tragedies, when the cosmos appears at its most chaotic and impartial, I have come to see the world, in its complexity, rearranging itself toward meaning.