Archived from the former firedocs blog. 09 January 2006
What is destiny?
Is it the need of the heart to assign some meaning to the randomness of where we end up?
Is it some convenient term to describe whatever we secretly wish for our lives? Or is what we secretly wish for our lives there inside us as the small voice of who we are and what we're here for?
Is it something real, something at the core of all our existence, something our shallow negative culture has bred out of our attention?
What happens when the one thing your sense of destiny has been telling you consistently since you were 5 years old seems improbable at best, ego-bound or delusional at worst? How many years do you fight that sense, no matter how strong or conscious it is, no matter how it manifests at different ages, before it goes away and you feel like the window closed on some critical thing and you've lost it; you may as well die, if your primary purpose here was missed. At what time does a person find the courage to deal with their own resistance and give themselves up to what some larger, more powerful internal sense of self wants?
I am a magnet
For all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind
And I live the envelope pushed far enough to believe that
I am a princess on the way to my throne
Destined to serve
Destined to roam
(Alanis Morisette's Wunderkind from the Narnia soundtrack)
I miss Archangel Michael. But from Jan 1-6 I had meditations that blew my mind and found me some really key elements of self. Whatever and wherever I am a year from now, I suspect will be in part because of those six days of the creation of a new world for me.
I call it destiny.