Pass the Chai

In many cultures, there are passed down stories of the inevitability of fate. It’s iron clad strength to chain our feet down to a destiny not in our hands. The red string, the pages from Brahma, the Greek Fates weaving the thread of life for humans. A predetermined path that links each of us to one another in ways unfathomable to the scientific mind. Although the thought as is typically sets a feeling of frustration, naturally clutching the heart with the desire to rebel. There lies an ache. Deep within, to succumb to a fate unknown. To walk through life with a knowledge that the rest is mapped, whatever it may be. Why not fall into the depths of those waters, fully, truly, completely?

Fate is mine to control and mine alone, a desire to consume that sentiment. That omniscient power and say destiny is ours to carve out and define. Everyone wants that. This ideology permeates through all facets of media and literature since the dawn of time. Why are we so hungry for that level of power? Even within the trials and tribulations of everyday life, a human being needs to make so many decisions. One after the other, slowly sinking joys until all of life is defined as a series of decisions, errands; tasks. Continuously crossing off tasks on a to-do list until we take our last breathe and can’t cross off anymore. The tasks haven’t ended, but the chore was lost earlier than the list. Makes the mind wonder if it’s selfish to want to break out of that lull with a wonder that, somewhere, greater than me, is a fate of mine predetermined. Written out chapters, unbeknownst to me, waiting to be read and for the page to turn. If I can break away from the tasks, can I discover the untold adventure of my own destiny?

If I take the example of the red string of fate, an invisible thread spanning across all of time and distance, to link two individuals together. An inevitable truth that has the ability to pull out every single human truth out, the pretty and the ugly. Of course, there can be minds out there that justify scandalous desires and wandering eyes to the power of the red string, but that’s just greed wrapping itself tight in a cloak of lamb’s wool. Instead the power lies in the chase, the hope to grab that thread and follow it all the way to the end. Across time, distance, lives even, if you follow a principle of reincarnation. Along the way you may imagine you’ve found where the end of it is tied carefully to a person’s finger, but in a blink realize your eyes have played a trick. The chase continues. Each hurt feeling from lost love, instead becomes a momentary mirage of the thread’s end, only for the pursuit to continue. Taking you on a journey of new perspectives, learning new ways to love another, learning new ways to love yourself, just learning in all its ways. The power to cast a light to scatter the shadows of painful heartbreak, build hope of the end of the thread in moments of loneliness, and a joy in enjoying the journey the distance of the thread. The most important being the warmth of the protection of a destined end of the thread nestled in the hands of a soulmate out there for us. There’s a beauty to that optimism that brings with it so many joys, even for the non-believers.

Not all the powers of the fate are as “pretty” as emotions of true love though. Even with notions of Brahma writing out the chapters of our lives, or the sisters of Fate weaving our thread of life, there’s the part of fate where life ends. The final word written in our chapter, the crisp clip of Atropos’ shears snipping each thread of life; concluding our time alive. Supposedly. But even in that there is joy and relief. The relief of a journey complete, regardless of our sentiment, the unshakeable truth that life is complete. No matter how much we may protest the duration of the book, the plot, the writing style, it’s still done. The book ends, whether we like it or not. Often that sparks fear for all that couldn’t be accomplished. What if instead, we let ourselves cherish what’s complete and allow ourselves to bask in that relief? If the story wasn’t good, it’s done now with our souls ready for the next to be better. If the story was good, it’s been enjoyed to the utmost extent, the chapters concluded without diluting the good. No matter how much the human spirit may want to fight against a predetermined fate of their life, there’s also a calm with knowing a final truth is outside our control. No matter which step we take, no matter the decision made, portions if not all of our fate is unshakably set.

No mistake or doubt or concern over decisions made can overpower what is destined to happen. Soothing anxieties of an unknown that at the end of the day, we cannot control. We can adjust ourselves, to continue to make subjectively “right”decisions for our journey, but we can also forgive ourselves. Be gentle with ourselves in times when too tired to search for the why to our questions.

Be cradled in the arms of fate and its powers larger than any human concept or emotion.