A Dense Record of Thought

Some thoughts. Some assembly required.

For some time, I have been concerned with self-creation. I hold firmly that we are not masters of our own destiny, as though what befalls a person is a matter of choice. Nor, however, are we satisfied with a random world dictated wholly by chance. As always in a clash of absolutes, I believe the truth lies somewhere in the middle. The middle ground I stake is that we cannot help what life throws our way, nor can we know what will come from our actions. We can know what we do and why. The antidote to regret is remembering why we opted for one course over another in a moment of choice. Don't mistake retrospection for responsibility. What's past is past; the person you were could not have chosen differently because he or she did not choose differently. We can't change that. What we can change is who we are. How you respond. This is self construction.
The exercise is not simple. We are mired in life, produced by families, friends, cultures and the choices of others. We are born into a world we did not choose. To take a step further, the distinctions between self and other, will and world, or inner life and outer (take your pick) are not so firm as some might like to believe. Self construction belongs to a legion of useful fictions, tools for living. It's a way to resolve the tension between the world as random and uncaring and the world as a theater of judgment for our every action.
The point, then? Live well. Know who you are; know why you are who you are. Do not be defined by regret but by growth. Where you own happiness is concerned, assign neither blame nor responsibility. It is as all things ephemeral (which is not to say unreal). Don't think you've got the answer to life. Just know what you're going to do about it.