Monday, March 23, 2026
Things must take their course. How do we know the difference between avoidance and the inevitable? Is it prevention—saving the course of time’s destiny—or having done the miraculous?
How can we be sure something was a close call, or was meant or not meant to be? It fascinates me that we can call it anything. Miracles, coincidences, close calls, and surprises are labels. Just because it appears “close” or a “long shot” or “unfortunate” changes nothing. Even calling it a mistake can’t do it justice. Why or how anything exists defies my explanation.
Is the universe itself a miracle? Is it a given? Does it have a justification? You can call it whatever you want to, and it’s still right here—doing its thing. It is ever-present and ever-defiant of how, why, or when we call it anything.
Just because I don’t know exactly when the angel trumpet tree out back is to blossom, or if it won’t blossom at all, doesn’t mean anything to the course of its own happening. How it happens, when it happens, if it happens. My judgment seems insignificant. From a surprise miracle to the ordinarily mundane, is there really a difference? That it happens, is all there happens to be.
Things take their course right under my turned-up nose, defying my preference (more often than I prefer). I hate being sick. Tell that to the virus that plowed through my system, leaving me coughing for six days. The virus is unaffected by my disdain. Do we impose our will, or just our fiddly judgment?
My preference, comments, judgment, or opinion amount to little. The course of time defies. I stand in awe (respectful distance), not in defiance, and certainly not in judgment. Who am I but a fiddly label maker?