Maybe in another life, when we are both cats

I was asked today if I believed that "everything happens for a reason." Good question.

The answer, in short, is "no." I do not believe that everything happens for a reason in the sense that we're always where we're supposed to be and it's all predestined and each of us is meant for a particular path. What I believe is this: each and every thing that happens in our respective lives, each variable that occurs along the way, each choice, each breath, affects us. All of these things add up to the sum of who we are at any given moment. No one is ever exactly the same as they were the moment before. Who we may be is up to the things that happen to us and the things we do. Life, in essence, is the substance of people.

I believe we have a certain amount of control, but there exist a certain amount of factors out of our control at the same time. Not necessarily equal and opposite, but different, and certainly opposing. I, in this realm, remain much the same as I am in any other--straddling a fence somewhere in the middle of two extremes.

I like it that way.

I was then asked in this same conversation, if, because I didn't believe that everything happened for a reason and that we all had a preset path or destination, that there was no hope for someone who was facing tough times. The answer to this is a resounding "no."

Here, I quoted one of my favorite movies:

Every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around.

That's one of the most beautiful things about life. It's all about opportunity. With every breath, there is hope--the promise of another. Even in our last breath, we have the hope of what comes next. No matter a person's belief system, there's got to be at least a glimmer of curiosity. No one, regardless of what they say, is absolutely sure that they know what happens when we pass from this world. There is hope in that uncertainty.

I like to think of my life as a book. Each day, each action, is another page, another word, another paragraph. When I'm finished, I just hope to have a story that people would want to read. I don't know where it's going. I think often times when authors sit down to write, they don't know where the story is going to take them. The characters and settings and events take on lives of their own, each affecting one another as well as the outcome of the story as a whole. That's what makes literature so amazing--that's life. The two things in life that I really love, I love for the same reason: they reflect life.

And, what's even more encouraging, when I think of my favorite books, it's not grand and fantastic tales of extraordinary adventure and intrigue that really gets me going--it's an author's or narrator's way of amplifying small, seemingly meaningless events into a story, into something that people are interested in, into, essentially, everything.

We can't all be rockstars or presidents or even millionaires. What we can do, though, is take whatever we've got and make it into something special. Make our lives into a book worth reading, whatever the subject. Adding all the things that make a book enjoyable: the ups and downs; the joy and heartbreak;  the uncertainty of what comes next; a few exciting twists every now and then; conflict and resolution (sometimes); love; character development; etc., etc.

One day--perhaps when I am old, perhaps not--when my life flashes before my eyes in that final moment, I will intently watch as the life I've had the pleasure of living is unfolded in my mind's eye. As the events slowly start to overlap my recent memories and my organs fail one by one, I will have but two things left to do--smile and turn the page.