Do you believe in fate? Do you believe that you have choices? If someone says – it was meant to be or it’s fate – do you accept that? Or instead, do you consider it a convenient excuse for rationalizing almost anything?
My French friends love the expression “il n’y a pas de hasard,” which means, literally translated, there is no such thing as chance. It is a romantic idea, with oodles of appeal, and I find it somehow suited to the French character and culture.
Like many, I’ve experienced my inexplicable moments, my wild wins against all odds, and other happenings that lead me to believe that something remarkable has just occurred.
That human beings ascribe divine or supernatural influences to these low-probability (happy) events is not surprising. We seek to explain what we can any way that we can, even if the explanation is mystery, faith, or notions of destiny and fate. And I wonder – is this the adult version of the child’s belief in magic?
Do you romanticize occurrences that you cannot otherwise explain? Do you rely on “meant to be” when what you’re actually doing is searching to rationalize actions or events that otherwise make no sense?
Childhood patterns
When I was a child, weekend antiquing was part of our routine. My father was generally on a golf course if the weather was good, so my mother would load up the station wagon with the dog, some provisions for the day, and of course – my brother and me.
I have vague (and pleasant) recollections of those times – days meandering small town New England, puttering through country stores, dank and dusty shops, and the occasional trip that included my grandmother, as we explored Pennsylvania Dutch Country.
My mother had little disposable income – perhaps a few dollars a week. But it was the sixties, prices were not inflated, and she knew her antiques. She was fearless (and formidable) when she wanted something, and unafraid to act when she discovered a treasure, certain that it “was meant to be.” Whatever it took, she’d find a way to negotiate her purchase.
Life lessons for children
There were many lessons in these excursions, and in my mother’s approach and tenacity. In particular, when it came to something she deemed valuable, and wished to possess. She could be overbearing and unrelenting one minute, or sweet as the proverbial pie the next. Whatever seemed effective, she utilized.
But looking back, what do I see?
- single-minded determination
- perseverance in the face of obstacles
- insistence on negotiating in one’s self interest
- a sense of “meant to be.”
If my mother was able to close the deal, even if it would require sending $5/week for a year to make a purchase, she didn’t hesitate. If she couldn’t make it work, she’d let it go, chalking it up to the fact that it wasn’t meant to be.
Patterns carried into adulthood
That my mother’s rigorous work ethic is part of my behavioral make-up is beyond question. That her love of art and language is part of what she bequeathed to me, equally so. But that I have this sense of destiny – only in certain scenarios – is a recent discovery.
This has always been the case in my own pursuit of treasure, which for me has more often been a work of art. My approach, when something was beyond my means? Make a case, negotiate, suggest a payment plan, and then decide that whatever the result, it was meant to be.
In my search for jobs and projects in these many months, I realize I’ve had a similar approach. An odd mix of fate and determination.
I’ve given each opportunity all I’ve got – and doubly so, when the fit seemed truly right. There have been serendipitous encounters that looked incredibly promising, but did not pan out. I have consoled myself with it’s not meant to be. In that, I recognize a sort of soothing mantra, a salve to the disappointment, a means to allow me to lick my wounds and then go on, with determination.
Failure and fate
But when it comes to relationships – including my relationship with myself – I am anything but a woman who believes that something is meant to be or not. In this, I believe I choose to think like a man.
Might “destiny” or some other unseen force lend a hand? Maybe yes, maybe no. But can “il n’y a pas de hasard” justify any action? The random meeting? The opportunity to benefit from another’s mistake? Or our own acceptance of damning notions of failure, particularly in relationships, in parenting, and in our assessment of our self worth?
Unlike my mother – who viewed the world through a dark lens, I do not cede to the concept of fate. Nor do I accept traditional interpretations of failure, and the way they insinuate themselves into the territory of what is meant to be or not.
I reject the easy notions of failure in American society, especially those that women wear so readily, much like guilt, when disappointment is taken too much to heart.
- We do not fail at marriages so much as we expect too much of ourselves and partners, and cannot possibly anticipate the changes we will all encounter.
- We do not fail at parenting so much as we cannot live up to our picture-perfect ideals, or the images painted by media.
- We do not fail as women so much as we do not judge ourselves by meaningful standards; rather, we use airbrushed pictures, reflections in other eyes, and not our own mirrors.
None of this is about “meant to be.” Il n’y a pas de hasard? Really?
History, futures, choices
Is “fate” what allows us to turn around our lives, or dissuades us from succeeding?
I don’t think so.
Are there factors beyond our control?
Yes, I’ll buy that.
Is there value to a balance of planning and going with the flow? Are we better positioned to deal with whatever comes as we gain experience and perspective?
On those adventures with my mother, we set off without plan. We searched for treasures, and some were found. Certainly, the journey is what I remember, and very few of the specifics or the acquisitions.
As for the objects themselves, a handful remain in my home. Their value, to me, lies in their history, the tales they could recount, their marred and worn surfaces, their beauty in caring craftsmanship. Part of their history is my history, and will be passed along to my sons. That is not destiny; it is a choice, a legacy of stories, a promise.
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Stacia says
You know, I don’t think I believe in fate, though I hadn’t thought much about it until reading this. I do still love the idea of il n’ya pas de hasard, even if I can’t quite embrace it wholeheartedly. C’est la vie, n’est-ce pas?
BigLittleWolf says
Yes. C’est la vie, exactement ! 🙂
Contemporary Troubadour says
Do I rely on “meant to be” when what I’m actually doing is searching to rationalize actions or events that otherwise make no sense? Quand quelque chose du mal se produit, non. Quant à la tendance de ne pas accepter une perte (matérielle, émotionelle), j’en suis un peu trop douée. J’essaie de changer le résultat bien qu’il soit moins douloureux de laisser tomber.
Je devrais suivre votre exemple de chercher mon propre “baume.”
Elizabeth says
I’ve had way too many encounters with people who say it was meant to be as a way out of trying to answer some unaswerable, challenging questions.
And yet sometimes I find the notion of choice as heavy a load as the notion that we might fail at something. Because… are we ever truly free to choose?
I’m agnostic on the idea of fate — sometimes I say “wow, I cannot explain THAT.”
TheKitchenWitch says
“Meant to be” seems like kind of a cop-out to me, but perhaps that’s because I’m a control freak and like to think that I’ve got my finger in everything.
BigLittleWolf says
“agnostic on the idea of fate” – I like that!
TKW – not sure if you’re a control freak, but sometimes, some people use meant to be too easily, I think. Seems like giving over responsibility.
Kristen @ Motherese says
I also like Elizabeth’s phrase “agnostic on the idea of fate” and I think it applies to me. Like TKW, I think that fate flies in the face of my controlling, perfectionist tendencies. I don’t like the idea that things are beyond my grasp to wrestle into submission.
I once read a fascinating book about the working poor. In it, the author, who had spent years interviewing hundreds of men and women who were unable to break the cycle of poverty, asserted that, in almost every case, cross-generational poverty was the result of both bad choices and bad luck. I was very persuaded by that idea – so perhaps I’ll close with the highly definitive: We make our own luck. Sort of. Not really.
Kat Wilder says
It is the choices in our life that put us in the spot to “allow” fate. It is our curiosity and openness to new things — or not! — that allow us to see them and accept them.
But, there are serendipitous moments, which bring incredible joy.
Believing in fate removes the power of choice from us. Nice, but we can’t blame anyone or anything else for our decisions. Funny, but just today I’m talking about choices — as in the sadness of getting what we want or not getting what we want.
Eva says
I’m kind of an enigma:
I believe in working hard toward a goal and that choices have consequences. I believe I am at this place in life as a result of my hard work, determination, commitment.
But… I also believe in fate. Not as a cop-out or poor excuse. But in a reassuring way: things will work out just fine. It’ll all come out in the wash. I suppose this is one way of coping with worry and fear about things I can’t control
amy says
i love reading about the antique excursions of your childhood! and i’m glad you have a few of the spoils left.
i definitely believe in “chance,” “fate,” “the energy of the universe,” some unseen hand or whirling collaboration of atomic particles that causes things to go one way or another. (how else could it have been that the tickets g. bought three days before the elvis costello concert just happened to be directly behind the ones i’d bought a month before???)
but that doesn’t mean we are passive pawns in the cosmic chess game. we have choices, and we make them (at our best) based on experience, research (including “expert” opinions of others), and gut instinct. i guess a ouija board once and a while doesn’t hurt. 🙂
BigLittleWolf says
As for “things will work out fine,” I think it soothes us – and certainly our children. But it isn’t always the case. Still, why not err on the side of optimism? (Saying this on a very bad day. The coffee must have done it’s thing.)
And the make your own luck? I’m with you, Kristen. Um, maybe. Then again, not so much. Then again, maybe. A little. Or at least go down fighting!!
Amy, you always make me smile. Even on a (really) bad day. Passive pawns in the cosmic chess game. Delightfully expressed. (But I don’t want to see te ouija board, all the same.)
😉
Privilege of Parenting says
I’m a fan of paradox as well—in a sense viewing everything ahead as totally open to free-will, but everything that has passed as locked into “meant to be” fate (since it happened, it was, in a sense, meant to be).
Sometimes I also think that our conscious selves are the recipients of a sort of fate in comparison with our deeper Selves who ultimately call the shots, at least for us. As to who or what the deep Self answers, I think we have free will to love it, but little capacity to understand it.
notasoccermom says
I don’t necessarily look at fate as what god and the heavens have pre-destined for us. However, I do agree that when I don’t get a job or even a relationship doesn’t work out, and I am upset over it fate is hardly to blame. But one of my favorite songs has a great line:
Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers.
Maybe it was not meant to be, and maybe it was not what we wanted after all.
I love your story of your mother. My mother was similar, and now i have many long road trip stories with my own children.
Celeste says
I love your question about fate, “is this the adult version of the child’s belief in magic?” My brother and I have had countless discussions about this very phenomenon. He, being the real- not to be confused with applied- scientist that he is, likes to point out all the ways in which we adults believe in “magic”.
I am agnostic so naturally struggle with faith and fate. There is something so comforting in believing in fate, that things will work out just so. But I am logical and skeptical about most things. I can’t buy into what I can’t prove. Still, a big part of me wishes I believed in the magic of the Universe, a force, a design, greater than myself. And, as you say, why not err on the side of optimism? Maybe it’s just not in my genes.
Mrs. Mayhem says
I’m so glad you re-posted this because I missed it the first time around. I do believe in fate, and I love the idea of Il n’y a pas de hasard, but it doesn’t stop my from trying my best in every aspect of life. Fate is not an excuse for apathy or laziness.