"Our fate restricts us so that our destiny can find us...." — Michael Meade
Our fate restricts us so that our destiny can find us, so that we can find again the gifts we came to give the world and receive the blessing the world would give to us.
— Michael Meade, Fate and Destiny
When something happens that common notions don’t have enough gravitas for understanding, the old stories talk about the “hand of fate”. The Greeks have many stories about prophecies, fate and destiny — and the danger of dismissing the signs.
Now the whole world is tied together by this “hand of fate”. It is as if the planet really is alive with intelligence, insisting that we slow down. Alongside the tragedy of illness and death all around, there is the sense of destiny, of something larger than all of us, forcing us to go inward, or live in trauma.
I have thought a long time about the words, fate and destiny. I am not a Calvinist, I don’t think everything is pre-determined. I believe that every choice matters. And yet, there is this ancient notion of fate as an invisible thread that is woven through all the things of the world and all the events in time. (Michael Meade). It includes an awareness of the limitations we have been given, including death. Fate is the hand you are dealt. Destiny is how you play your hand, how you choose to live into your fate, and find meaning in what you have been given. Your destiny is fully realized because of your limitation. There is an inherent connection between your inner gift and your inner wound. The door is through willingness to be vulnerable, to accept your limitation as a structure that supports your soul’s expression.
Presence and Productivity
What I want to talk about today is how to find a balance between solitude and interaction, and how bringing presence to both cultivates productivity. Being a maker requires both solitude and interaction. Quality solitude awakens your inner life, your muse and your imagination. Meaningful interaction — a conversation with a fellow traveler — fuels creativity. Joseph Campbell said: “We may as well be with those who bring out the best in us.” How you spend your days, and who you spend them with, matters.
A full day of solitude is water for the thirsty maker…on these days, I often take a long time getting out of my pajamas. Breakfast is late too, but before noon. The length of time for dedicated solitude is less important than the quality of solitude. Quality is the renewal, the welcoming of a fresh horizon, that arises naturally from stillness. Yet stillness seems so distant to the restless mind. It’s as if everything is aligned in opposition to having an inner life. There is an aversion to boredom, a craving for stimulation, and a longing for the next shiny object. Let me give you an example:
There was a research study set up to examine our resistance to “doing nothing”. The participants were asked to sit alone in a room, without moving or having access to any devices, for 10 minutes. They were given the option to sit still, or to press a button that would give them an unpleasant electric shock. 25% of the women and 67% of the men chose to shock themselves rather than sit still.
It’s as if we don’t want to allow the presences tapping on our dark and luminous world of possibility, the images that are summoning us, to actually arrive and expand our being.