“Alice came to a fork in the road. ‘Which road do I take?’ she asked.
‘Where do you want to go?’ responded the Cheshire Cat.
‘I don’t know,’ Alice answered.
‘Then,’ said the Cat, ‘it doesn’t matter.’”
Life has no rules. It can be a complicated and bitter journey, or it can be a happy rewarding one with simple answers. Over the years I have come to believe that life is about choices. And the choices you make eventually shape your day, shape your views, shape your experiences, shape your thoughts… and shape your life.
There are some life choices over which you have no control or which others will make for you – like when and where you are born, the family you are born to, your life during childhood, the school you went to, etc. etc. etc. Beyond that, there are several other important choices that you make in life. And those choices define you.
Heroes are made by the paths they choose, not the powers they are graced with. If you believe it is a world of choice, you regard your life as a product of your own decisions. If you believe in destiny, you suspect there are greater forces defining your life’s story. Even if we are a part of some grand master plan, our unique journey has more personal meaning when we choose it for ourselves.
Desires dictate our priorities, priorities shape our choices, and choices determine our actions. We don’t get to choose what is true. We only get to choose what we do about it. At the end of the day, the questions we ask of ourselves determine the type of people that we will become.
Life is a test. It was designed to be so. Few lines conjured up as I meandered into the world of choices that define our lives… or rather, we let them define our lives:
You are not the fading birthmark,
the reminder of a shipwrecked marriage
sailing without purpose.
You are not the scars on your skin,
the seconds when hope discarded you,
like charred bits of memory.
You are not the digits on the scale,
the mind distorting the reflection
of such a beautiful body.
You are not the syringe or the pills,
that lift you higher and higher,
though your feet remain rooted.
You are not the burn of the throat,
long after the bottom’s up,
as the veins go numb and dumb.
You are not the lost suicide note,
that lets you escape reality
but not eternity.
A heart, soul and mind
bent but not broken beyond repair,
that is what you are.
Copyright © 2012-2013 Tanumoy Biswas and The Nomadic Soliloquist. All Rights Reserved.