foretold

Everything happens for a reason. I believe this with my whole heart.

I tried explaining this to Helga, the woman who cuts my hair. She wasn’t buying it. “We spent all of this money so our son could be an engineer. And what does he do? He married a stripper! After we went into debt so he could become an engineer!”

When I relayed THAT conversation to my friend Bob, he had a slightly different take: “Well, that’s why we become engineers, Lisa. So we can one day marry strippers.” Ah, yes. A “higher degree” of love. Cause and effect.

I don’t take new situations lightly. If something happens and it’s unexpected, I wonder about it for days. And a potentially random conversation often has a deeper meaning for me, a fact that never ceases to amaze my friends. It drives them crazy. Hours after hearing an inconsequential remark, I’ll still be asking questions.

Why did you say it? What did you mean by that? Do you really think that’s true?

And I have other questions, too. Why at this time in my life did I have to learn this? Find that person? What’s the reason for everything that’s happening to me?

And just what am I supposed to do with all of this newfound knowledge? Sit on my ass and do absolutely nothing? Or take some as yet undiscovered action to change my life’s direction? Or is something happening not for my benefit, but to help shape someone else’s destiny?

Am I their reason?

Recently I wrote about a near-miss car accident. And I’ve had a number of near-misses in my life. I thought my cards would be played a long time ago. But I’m still here. And I know there’s a reason why.

I understand and acknowledge when things are going wrong for me. I’m the first one to admit when I’m unhappy, and ready for a change. But I often have to wonder why things have to end up the way they do. Why things can’t just be easy.

Uncomplicated. Why other people seem to accept their fates willingly and without argument. They all seem happy. Content. Are things really ever that easy? Or are they as fraught with apprehension as I always seem to be? Are they just better at hiding their feelings? Living a lie?

If you broke into their homes, what would you find? Financial debts? Emotional debts? A life left unpaid?

And what do you do inside of a home, anyway?

I’ve always felt things strongly. Been sensitive to what’s happening to people around me. And like I always tell my friends, my emotions are right on top of my skin. If things happen for a reason, what is that reason? And when am I going to finally see the light? Make smart decisions? Make wrong decisions that turn out right?

Maybe I’ll never know if I’m doing the right thing. In the long run, it’s just about being happy, and doing what’s right for me. Trying to be healthy. Practical. And smart.

I believe that everything happens for a reason. I have to.