There’s something about determinist philosophy that makes me want to bang my head against a wall. I’ve read plenty of things that make me pause and wonder, “Is it just me, or is this absolute nonsense?” Of course, I’ve never claimed to be infallible. But sometimes, I can’t help but feel like some ideas need to be dissected, critiqued, and then promptly thrown out the nearest window.
Let’s get one thing straight: I’m all for giving ideas a fair shake. I’m a writer, so ideas are my bread and butter. Thus, I’m willing to entertain even the wildest notions, if they don’t threaten my sanity or well-being. But when someone starts waxing poetic about the deterministic nature of the universe, that’s where I draw the line. I refuse to indulge in such intellectual acrobatics, mostly because I’m terrible at gymnastics.
Sure, there’s a reason behind everything, or so we’re told. Maybe there’s a Divine Hand out there, pulling the strings, and letting things happen for some grand purpose. I can’t say I’m entirely opposed to the idea. After all, it’s comforting to think that there’s a cosmic plan, even if it sometimes feels like the universe is running on a glitched out Windows 95 operating system. But let’s be real: things don’t just happen because some divine puppet master decided today was the day you’d spill coffee on your favorite shirt. Sometimes, things go wrong because you’re clumsy. Welcome to the human experience.
Now, I’m not denying that there might be some sort of plan with a capital P. But I’m not about to sit around waiting for the Divine Mind to drop the perfect thought into my head. That’s not how life works. If there is a cosmic blueprint, it’s probably covered in coffee stains and hastily scribbled notes. To suggest that our actions are merely the product of divine accidents is to give far too much credit to the idea that everything is preordained.
The concept that our destiny is inevitable, carved into the very marrow of our bones from the moment of our conception, is just plain wrong. I’m a firm believer that we have a choice in all this madness. Yes, there might be a Plan, but humanity is the universe’s grand experiment—an unpredictable and often hilarious one at that. Seriously, though — the universe is far too vast and empty for us to be the only ones in the lab. I refuse to believe that all that space is just a colossal waste of real estate.
But it’s so easy and tempting to be a sheep. You kneel, you pray, and you hope that your imperfect faith will somehow carry you through the storm. Well, that’s just not good enough for me. I’m not interested in being a sheep; I’d rather be a lion—a slightly neurotic, caffeine-addicted lion, but a lion, nonetheless.
We all have potential — our own particular potency, as Nicolas of Cusa might say. But that potential isn’t going to magically manifest just because it exists in some theoretical sense. We have free will, dammit. We can let our potential fester and rot, we can realize it, or we can surpass it. That’s the real challenge, the true human quest: to go beyond what we’re told is possible.
Yet, all I hear are circular arguments, again and again. It’s exhausting, and frankly, it’s uninspiring. I’m tired of hearing about fate and inevitability. Instead, give me something hopeful, something that doesn’t reek of blind faith and passive acceptance. I’m not content to be a mere cog in the cosmic machine. I want to smash the machine to pieces and see what else we can build with the scraps.
~ Amelia Desertsong
