I used to continually analyze the many intricate maths in life. Life in general, not my own specifically.
For instance, I was always highly curious why some are hopeless blessed and others hopelessly doomed from the start in life. The former almost invariably winding up in a worse state, the later in a better one, like some type of Charles Dickens story, or a Hallmark channel movie where everybody’s eating ice-cream and saying some very sweet shit at the end of things.
Myself included. I was fortunate and highly blessed that I had very well off parents. This isn’t to suggest that I myself was an inheritor of their wealth, and I’ve seen the dark power of monies turn supposed ordinary, sweetest of people into the deadest, most rigid and uptight monsters, and these were neither rich nor poor. Perhaps in some peoples eyes well to do, and poor by the filthy rich.
Still, I didn’t have to really have a job during highschool, I got a weekly stipend that kept me content. I believe back when it was $20/week, which was considered a sizable fortune. There wasn’t any smartphones or tech distractions, the only things that kept me and my friends preoccupied was music, books, art museums, it was very much Ferris Buelher’s Day Off, that was a accurate depiction of what life was truly like for midwest high schoolers.
Getting back on point I pondered God’s algorithm for life. I take myself as a example, and these are my thoughts :
- I could have been raised in a sm
- all apartment, low income housing, with a
single hard working momsI could have been the only child
- I might’ve had brothers instead of sisters
- Might have been born white, black, or latino
- Could have been born in a foreign country
- Could have been born insanely wealthy, and ended up a spoiled little something
- I could’ve been born a Shaolin monk
- Might have gotten bit by a radioactive cockroach when I went to Science and Industry for the first time
Even though I grew up in a upper middle class nuclear family who was very secular, I strangely held a secret envy for many friends own family lives. They seemed quite close knit, dependent on one another, supportive, affectionate, more easily loving despite their myriad differences.
I felt detachment in my own family, a lack of communication, sometimes isolation and apathy. There were so many dynamics involved, so many personalities that either worked or clashed. For instance my older sisters had been kind of envious of me, the youngest and only son being dad’s favorite. Even my own moms had a bit of it herself. My dad wanted me to succeed, he had great love as a Korean dad does for his son, his own flesh and blood.
I guess I was always my own person since early on. As a latchkey kid, I learned a bit of independence almost entirely too young,
I had come to the belief that chaos theory math predetermined ones set of blessings and curses in the form of their starting lot in life, weaknesses and strengths, highs and lows. I could have gone many routes in life, like in a choose your own adventure novel (which I’d read so many growing up).
I keenly observed the unworthy in lofty, undeserved places, statuses of opulence. And similarly, I took note of men and women who possessed hearts, minds, and souls that would have made them kings, queens and emperors in an alternate reality who were square pegs in a round reality (that almost makes sense).
Yet, be that as it may, I also noticed this as well : despite having the essence and the tools of such esteemed greatness in potentiality, luck wasn’t the deciding factor in their equation. Luck was a capricious equalizer, prone to erratic unproductive behavioral pattern. So nobody could rightly rely upon it as a stable constant. Me trying really hard can in and of itself produce a modicum of its own „luck“, in terms the world understands. But it’s simply the fruit of exertion, not chance.
As I grew older and wiser, I discovered life really was a choose your own adventure novel. Every wrong decision could be the actual correct one, and every wrong person in your life might be stepping stones towards right ones. What I mean here is not cryptic, just the opposite : we’re not stuck in one season in our lives. People change, the circumstances change, and we can either change with it or dwell in the past, stuck in a linear sequence of events and trying to live life in that plastic bubble wrap container.