What ever will be, will be.
The future is not ours to see.
Qué será, será.
I have always wanted to plan out and know the future. I like to feel a sense of preparation, and to anticipate the forthcoming events. Allowing things to evolve as fate should have them, and accept that I might not be able to predict the course of events provokes a feeling of vulnerability. But as my nineteen year old sister reminded me, "You can plan a pretty picnic, but you can't predict the weather."
Two weeks ago, I sat next to a French ex-patriot on a routine flight to San Diego. After the initial indulgence of casual niceties, we breached the PC divide between casual small talk and we began to drill deep into the core of our political beliefs, our dreams and philosophies on life. Thierry trumped me by about 30-40 years, so his outlook on life carried years of tethered experience. Though I found Thierry to be undeniably fascinating, there was one line that shook me inside and reverberated through me:
Life isn't always champagne. Sometimes it is just flat wine.
I'd love to know what will happen next-
will there be rainbows day after day?
will I be pretty?
will I be rich?
but I guess I have to wait to see if I'll swim in champagne, or perhaps tread water for some time more in flat wine.