Nothing is planned, or by chance. Everything that crosses your path is not just a mere crossing, some circumstantial set placed in front of you. It’s part of the story, it’s integral, how you use it is your election. If you’re a writer, you just start writing. If a thoughtful character, then you look further into it and act or react with more momentum later. Everything with which we cross in path and concept is instrumental to our stories. It’s opportunity, all of it. From taking your kids to school, to standing in line waiting for your coffee or mocha like me, whatever. All of it forms a meaningful confluence with you. In that moment. Then it’s away, and away forever. All crossings are opportunities, yes, but more than that they’re something from which to learn and grow. As characters in our own stories, we need to take more time to deconstruct the scenic ingredients in front of us and see how we can be positively affected by them. “So are you saying something like ‘everything happens for a reason’?” Not at all. Like I said, nothing planned. “Then what about chance, that it’s coincidence?” No. That implies that it’s just there, the intersection. I argue that the moment and gracious gravity form right there when you cross with something. “Well, it has to be one or the other.” Not at all. I offer that a new time starts when you intersect with something, and if you think further about that something, whatever it is. It could be on a walk and you see a deer in the distance. You could choose to just keep walking and not give the creature much measure, or you could slow or come to total halt, think about it, and use those thoughts how you wish. Either way, the intersection is only an intersection if more thought, a firmly expansive meditation, is brought to fruition.
This is to punctuate, then, that we as thinkers decide what constitutes an intersection. What holds opportunity and promise, and what we should just pass and not allocate excess read. The decision power is always with us, and I only realize this now at my old age of 37. But I see this minted understanding as its own intersection, something which deserves time and a long sitting in a chair, not writing but just thinking— okay, maybe some note-taking as thoughts drum along and about, around me. But, the act of thinking is what holds as its own Matterhorn of importance. Like now, I realize I could walk away from this keyboard and take a nap on the couch behind me. Or, I could record my perceptive and analytical sways. My observation of that fork, and me thinking and acting from it, is an intersection. That choice and I met on this day’s path. It was not intended by anything, and it’s not just here. It’s a reality from me acknowledging it, stopping at it and not just walking on. Acting from it. Growing from it. We all need to embrace our opportunities with intersections, know they’re out there. They can only be out there, though, if we’re open to them, if we’re open to our own stories; what we want in them, from them. Don’t leave anything to some grand plan that can’t be verified, and breathe never in chance.