Fulfilling Destiny and a Free Ride When You’ve Already Paid
Life has its funny ways (and not only in the Alanis Morissette song).
When I was innocently young I had big plans. I wanted to be a doctor and study medicine. Although I was fainting at the bare sight of a blood drop coming out of the tiniest wound, I was incurably fixed to do a profession that involved cutting bodies while munching at your lunch. I don’t know if it was vanity, excessive ambition or possibly a noble need to save lives, but there was something about wearing the white coat that was drawing me in, like the patent pending magnet of the Kewi bra.
I was brainwashing myself to believe that eventually I would get used to dissect living human parts, and that at the end of my studies, opening the brain of a person, would be nothing more than opening a macaroni and cheese can (Not that I wanted to be a brain surgeon, but as future neurologist I would get close to that).
And so I gave it a try.
Besides a few others, less impressive classes, I took one whole, giant, colossal course in human Anatomy, based on the famous Gray’s monumental volume (not so much the TV series as the 1600 pages written by Henry Gray and illustrated by Henry Vandyke Carter). I learned the human body by heart regionally, got to know where the hyoid bone lies, what’s a philtrum, and that some of us have a group of muscles called auriculares.
After having dug for hours without end the secrets of biology, chemistry and other natural sciences I asked myself one serious question: Is it really what I’d like to do for the rest of my life? And the answer was unfortunately (or fortunately for my prospectus future patients): No.
Deep inside there was a tiny little voice saying, that I needed to take a different path, that I was ought to follow my heart instead of obeying my parents desires. Thereupon I enrolled in the Literature and Languages department and joined to the dismay of humanity (the unaffected by blood or dissection) humanities.
And what a change!
I went from Bloody Mary to Vodka on the rocks in a matter of hours. Farewell to studying autopsy of living creatures (not that we don’t need people who do that, but why the heck me?), and hello to enriching mind and spirit liberal arts (from now on the only thing I would dichotomize would be a piece of text and not a human arm).
I never, not even for a second regretted my intuitive decision, especially since I took to it like a literary duck to water. In fact, since then I devoted my entire life to literature, which certainly has contributed to the enrichment of me as a person (not counting that it drove me indirectly to this blogging page).
I believe that the universe has its own plans for us, and that no matter how much we try to resist, it will guide us towards fulfilling destiny. Sometimes it might take a few years, sometimes the whole existence, but in the end, we will complete our intention.
I’m certain that it’s not an accident that we all found ourselves united on this virtual platform, and that we have met friends, who support us in this boundless digital world. In that respect I’m a total Stoic, regarding the circumstances under which we find ourselves as part of a bigger plan, a universal network of fate. Without doubt, it’s not by pure coincidence that I joined the Women of midlife on that late February day.