I was asked at the FBA Christmas gathering if I believed in destiny or in random acts. 
The meeting of a person.  The happening of a thing.

I said, “I am an attorney.  I can skillfully argue both sides.”

But I really think it’s both.  That white floating, Forest Gump, feather.

The predestined plan holds out milestone markers (people, places, events) but it’s hundreds upon thousands of random acts that package and surround them.

I could name events in my life: turtles, dolphins, dreams, a moment in a law library, Sevilla, El Prado, Real Madrid, and Pamplona.  People, places, events all given to me like a necklace of pearls.

Even the horrible and evil moments have a predestined place.  I am filled with an understanding of things that propel me toward other unseen objects.

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Friday I had a horrible morning.  I had to deal with an attorney I truly dislike.  He is vile and self-serving.  He is everything I think an attorney should not be.  I was choking down tears of frustration.  All the while hating him and what he stands for.  I hate what he is. 
Thinking this has been a real shitty morning and <viola> my parking is suddenly free.

Saturday morning I have breakfast by myself.  The girls are out doing their own thing.  I hate to eat alone.  I am at the Grand Coney thinking how shitty it is that I have to eat breakfast alone.  I am too young to be alone.  I find myself wondering about age.  I wonder how many of these breakfasts I am going to have alone. <Viola> someone pays for my breakfast leaving me with a Merry Christmas note.

I think of the night I met Amy.  I am barely holding on to reasons.  I am hating humanity.  I am not finding any good in anyone.  It doesn’t exist.  On this evening I have a horrible date. <Viola> there stands Amy.

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These perfectly timed moments just when it knew I needed them. 
I am drawing an ice cream float card and we are kids playing candy land.

“Come on, really?”  You ask.

All I know is I am talking in my head and explaining how shitty this all is.  I am not happy here.  This cosmic being is letting me know “Come on, I really am letting you know….”

It is taunting me, pushing me forward, daring me to show it what I’ve got.  I am running a marathon.  I am at mile marker 12.  It decides to give me a small drink of water.

My mouth feels like it’s full of southern cotton.  I hate humanity.  I hate all this worry.  I hate all this responsibility.  I think death would be enticingly peaceful.

It knows I could really use a good night’s sleep. 

But for some stupid reason I know I got something terribly important to do.

And it’s there holding the brass ring. The mega millions lotto sign reads:  202.

He says It’s there, it’s obtainable, it is totally an act that is within my grasp.

O.K. so I will get naked in the back seat of his car. 

Come on then.  Let’s do this. 

I am sticking my tongue out at it.  Give it to me.  Let’s see what is it you’ve got.

I am earning it’s respect. 

It suggests mile markers log persistence. 

Random acts are all in the timing.

The rest of it?  You tell me.

Which is it?

Destiny or random acts