24 Days.

I’m a big fan of the idea of making my own destiny.

Funny, really. The idea of destiny.

I used to think that Destiny was something that spun out of my control, something that couldn’t be handled. I would be more than content to ride along on the white-water rapids of Life to see where it takes me. My laidback attitude definitely doesn’t help in this regard. I would be more “Meh” compared to “Yeah, let’s go!”

But somewhere along the line, especially when I had a big spiritual fall-out and decided to take things into my own hands, I found that there is a HUGE element of control when it comes to destiny.

I used to wonder how God could possibly know every move we make and know what we’re going to be doing next. I wondered whether I could cheat God by deciding to do one thing but end up doing another. It was one of those “predator and prey” games to me, whether I could be one step ahead of the Big Man.

I’ve asked this question of many people before.

Do you believe that everything that happens is fate and that you have no say or control over it or do you believe that you make your own destiny?

The more religious ones, I find, tend to say that life is already preplanned, like a microwave meal. You ALWAYS know what you’re going to get.

But I have found quite a number of people as well that say that they control their own destiny. And not in relation to little things, mind. Its about big things, huge issues that need to be dealt with. Some work out for the better, some work out for the worst. But its the idea of taking that chance and taking that action that so inspires me, sometimes.

Amongst this bunch of people, I have met a US high school graduate who decided NOT to go to college but instead, start up his own computer business while coaching tumbling (gymnastics) part time. He now has a company of 5 people working for him (not bad for someone who only left finished high school) and is assistant head coach of his gymnastics team.

And then I have a friend who doesn’t believe in taking control of his own destiny. He is stuck in a job he hates, longing for something that he can’t do, still living at home with his parents and finding life in general, a real big fscking pain.

After writing that statement, I shudder to think how, with a tweak or two of some circumstances, instead of the above friend, it could have been me.

Of course, I’m probably only advertising the good about making your own destiny and the bad about believing in fate. Some people actually get on very well being dragged around by the nose by their destinies while others are a completely wretched mess trying to concoct something out of the chaos that they call life.

Me? I find that as much as I love the idea that I’m in control, I know that there’s also a delicate balance between my control of my destiny, and the irreplaceable idea that when shit happens, shit happens and there is not enough imaginary toilet paper in the world that would clean the fsck of the the mess that is my life. But what I can take control of, I will. With a vengeance.

I’m thinking back to the time in 2007 when us physio students were given a chance to pick a clinical placement centre. Instead of placing the city as I was in as preferred choice, I picked the furthest place I could think of, away from that place.

Windy Welly.

The Higher Authorities were furious. For me to even think of leaving said town was pretty much considered a blatant act of stupidity. Why did I do it? Why didn’t I choose to stay?

My excuses were mumbled, along the lines of the weather being crap and that I wanted to “see the world” and they threw a hissy fit.

And so I moved out.

Experiencing a different lifestyle, a different place, a different environment. For a lot of my coursemates, its was coming home. Or moving closer to home. I, on the other hand, was trying to run away from home as far as I could.

Many things happened in Welly, unfortunately more bad than good and again, my wanderlust grew. I wanted to get out and travel. See new places, find somewhere else to restart anew. Where no one knew me and where I got a clean slate.

So in December of 2008, when I finally got smacked on the head with a graduation trencher and got given the most expensive piece of toilet paper ever, I applied for a job in a little city called Wangas.

To be continued due to work commitments…