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Photo Pierre Laroche

Our Destiny

Are we gov­erned by a force, laws, a god, some­thing high­er than us ? The con­cept of des­tiny takes many form and it is not only present in astrol­o­gy, where the move­ment of “celes­tial” bod­ies seems to offer a use­ful metaphor for under­stand­ing exis­tence. Catholics do not believe in fate, they believe in indi­vid­ual sal­va­tion, in pow­er to change the course of things. Mus­lims would be more inclined to think that the divine order casts its shad­ow on the path to be fol­lowed and that it is nec­es­sary to sub­mit to it.

We must not con­fuse des­tiny with fatal­i­ty and here again, there will be some astrologers to draw a straight line of pre­fab­ri­cat­ed events for you. The notion of des­tiny also exists in sci­ence under the term deter­min­ism. Here too, the spec­trum of hypothe­ses includes as much high­ways of cal­cu­la­tion — God would not play dice (Ein­stein) — as the notion of chaos that invari­ably leads to order, even if one can­not pre­dict what order will be (Langton’s ant).

Some will say that we must accept our fate. I have as proof two of my friends whose birth chart express­es both the fatal­i­ty of their health prob­lems and the pos­si­bil­i­ty of emerg­ing or direct­ing their exis­tence towards a new per­son­al world.

Things hap­pen to us, we kind of suf­fer them. At the same time, we make it a rea­son, we can suc­ceed or try to under­stand its mean­ing, we can build a sym­bol­ism. Would fate be a way to hide your own’s igno­rance ? Don’t the dancers flut­ter around abstrac­tions that give birth to beauty ?

You, at this moment, what is your des­tiny, what has been your path to this day ? Do you see it as a trace, a line, a shape ? If so, what is its pur­pose ? You can cer­tain­ly find refuge there, but the last answer will be that you don’t know. At most, you can hope. Hope is thus your dance, your song. Your des­tiny is to be a human being. It is a black line sketch that the fatal­i­ty that belongs to you will try to col­or with more or less fin­ished pen­cil or brush strokes.

Your des­tiny is shared with the rest of human­i­ty, which must deal with the man­i­fes­ta­tion of oth­er species, the great­ness of plan­ets and stars. It forms a Whole that we are oblig­ed to write with a cap­i­tal let­ter. Silence in us seems to be our only cer­tain­ty. The result or con­se­quences of our actions are in line with achieve­ments in an evo­lu­tion­ary palimpsest. We must undoubt­ed­ly sub­mit our­selves, live our lives the way they hap­pen to us.

Fate or des­tiny is often por­trayed as an ocean with ran­dom waves, a hori­zon that is always far away, and as an abyssal depth. The vault of heav­en and its mas­sive vari­ety could be anoth­er sym­bol of what is. There is no oth­er way but to move for­ward and blend in with the stars, to cre­ate your nest with the oth­er bees. If we could all at least breathe the same win­ter wind… wouldn’t our jour­ney towards our des­tiny be hap­pi­er as a result ?

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